Our Own Island
by coffee666
Summary: When Gilbert is badly injured saving Anne from an attacker in the woods, Anne feels so guilty that she vows to stay by his side until he is well. It is hard for her to see him now as anything other than a hero, and as those strange feelings of admiration grow, she begins to realize many of those feelings were always there.
1. Chapter 1

Anne admired the work of the upcoming summer as she took a bend in the road that cut through the woods. The warm sun was filtered by the canopy of trees, and she was glad for the coolness, despite her love of the weather.

The work, as in the fullness of the trees and the grand sweeps of growing flowers, made for one of the only things she liked about the walk to and from the Blythe farm. Luckily, Gilbert hadn't been around to tease her or anything. She just picked up what Marilla wanted from Sebastian.

Apples and honey sounded like a recipe for a fantastic treat, but Anne knew anything Marilla made was going to the church before her own belly. Still, she loved those apples. Whoever said they were the sweetest in Avonlea, they were right.

Anne had eaten a quick and small breakfast that morning in her rush to get to the barn and watch Belle's foal. She was regretting that now as her stomach growled loudly.

Marilla had asked for half a bushel of apples, but Anne couldn't help herself now from reaching into her cloth bag to take one now. She'd have to get more later in the week, but an extra trip there wasn't so bad –even at the thought of Gilbert's teasing.

As Anne bit into the apple, she knew she wasn't doing Gilbert fair justice. She still thought of him as the boy that had teased her all those years ago, but he truly wasn't like that anymore. She actually couldn't remember the last time he'd been actually mean to her. She could remember snapping at him, though.

She didn't know why she did it. She just did. When they got along, it was like music. But when they fell apart, it was more like sour notes. It was inevitable, Anne decided.

They were just too different.

Anne crunched on her apple as she cut deeper into the woods. She remembered now all the silly things she'd do when she first came to live here, like dawdling just to take off her boots and put her bare feet in the creek. She remembered wanting nothing more than to sleep in a tree.

At sixteen, it was almost embarrassing to think back on herself that way. She was still with whimsy, of course, but a refined type. She still used her imagination every day, she was just now more careful about who she shared those daydreams with.

Anne finished her apple and dropped the core onto the ground. A few steps later, Anne realized without the crunching rattling through her jaw, she could hear something else among the forest sounds.

Footsteps behind her. Anne looked over her shoulder, scanning the path. She then saw him a ways back. An older man walked hunched over, with a hat pulled down low. He wore a coat and scarf despite the time of year.

The man looked up to meet her gaze and then quickly looked back down. Anne smiled, as the shyness reminded her of Matthew.

"Sir? How are you today?" Anne called.

The man looked up again and walked quickly towards her. As he did so, Anne tried to place him but realized she did not know him. Her stomach swooped just slightly. Marilla was always telling her to watch out who she spoke to when she didn't know them.

"Miss. Hello." The man greeted. In the few short words, Anne thought she heard an accent, but she wasn't sure.

"Where are you going today, Sir?" Anne asked.

"You hair… love you hair." The man reached out to touch one of her braids, Anne found herself instinctively turn so that her hair fell away from his hand.

"Thank you." Anne didn't launch into her usual tale of having to learn to like its color. Instead, she just repeated again. "Where are you going?"

"Go…" The man looked up and pointed down the road before letting his outward arm trail down another road.

"Are you lost? I can see you're not from here. Where are you trying to go?" Anne started to walk and the man now walked beside her.

"Go… Go…" He seemed unsure, before nodding firmly. "Go to farm."

"Whose farm?" Anne asked. "Do you know the name? I could tell you which way-"

"You show me." He suddenly wrapped both arms around hers, almost the way she and Diana did when they walked together. "You show me…"

Anne's adrenaline kicked in as she realized this man wasn't as old as she thought. Either that, or he was just very strong. She felt muscles under his coat as he held onto her.

"Sir, I can't –" Anne nearly lost her footing, as she tried to tug away from him. "I really must get home –Please, Sir –"

This was not right, Anne just knew. He would not let go. He was talking again now, repeating that Anne show him the way, he was lost. Anne wasn't listening.

She pulled away a bit, but he held tight to her forearm, pulling her back in by it. Anne cried out in pain as he wrenched her arm. Her hat was slipping from her head and the bag of groceries swung where they were hug from her other arm.

"Let go of me!" Anne yelled, and one hand of his left before he held it back up. Anne gasped.

"Don't scream." He demanded, holding up a knife.

Anne's heart pounded, eyes wide as she watched the blade. It was larger than a pocket knife. It looked more like the type of knife she'd seen Matthew carve with. With only one of his hands on her, Anne desperately made a run for it.

The man grabbed at her arm again, and Anne fell. She felt her knees and elbows scrape the ground as she fell down. Apples pressed against her through the bag beneath her, but she rolled off of them as she tried to get up.

The man pressed down on top of her. She knew now that he was strong, maybe even young. Just one who'd gone grey early.

Anne screamed as and flailed her arms, kicking her legs as the man pushed her down onto her back. His leg pinned over hers, his knee landing on one of her hands, crushing her fingers. The other went over her other leg. Her other arm, still bruised from his grab, was pinned by his hand.

His free hand held the knife.

"Don't scream." He said again.

Anne began breathing fast, tears forming in her eyes. She squirmed, realizing now that, though done clumsily, he had managed to pin all of her limbs down.

"Don't scream." He repeated, softer now, as he brought the knife down. Anne watched with wide fearful eyes as he traced the point of the knife down one of her braids. He then began to whisper, "Such pretty hair."

Was he going to cut off her hair? Anne couldn't help but hope that was all he would do with the knife, despite the fact that it had taken her so long to grow it back out again.

"Please…" Anne felt the tears roll down her cheeks. "Please let me go."

The man didn't act as if he'd heard her. He just kept tracing the blade down her braid, muttering to himself about her hair. Anne took a chance and screamed again.

"Help! Help me!"

The man pressed the blade to Anne's throat. Anne went silent as she felt it pierce her skin. Heavy breaths shook her body.

"Do. Not. Scream." The man said firmly. "You scream. I kill you. Do you understand? I cut your throat, and you die. Do you understand?"

"…Y-Yes." Anne didn't dare say another word. The pain in her arms and legs wasn't there anymore. There was only the knife brushing her skin, brushing the chain of Diana's locket around her neck.

The man moved his knife-bearing hand out of her field of vision. He then pulled off his scarf and reached down. Anne gasped as he began to shove the waded cloth into her mouth. She gagged and coughed as the only thing was now the taste and smell of old wool.

"Pretty… pretty girl…" He went back to muttering as his free hand moved to her dress.

Anne wanted to fight. With only one hand of his holding her, she could maybe get out. But he has a knife. What if he chased her and knocked her down again. He could stab her.

If she screamed, he could stab her. Anne turned her head, feeling the scarf coming lose from her mouth. From this angle, she could see the bend in the road from the way she came. It was still a ways until that path broke clear of forest, though. And that way was just the school. No one would be there, now.

Just the school and Gilbert's house. Those were the closest things. Anne began to pray that Sebastian would come down the road. Maybe Anne forgot her change or something? Maybe he would come to see the foal, since she'd mentioned it.

But Bash never came to anywhere past Green Gables, for he was unwanted in much of town. Even then, he'd have no reason to come this way. Just as no one would have reason to come this way towards the school on a Saturday.

Anne felt the man's hand finally rough through her dress and touch her skin. A sick feeling spread through her. She didn't know what was happening, but she didn't like it. Her breathing grew more panicked, dislodging the scarf.

Though the scarf now fell from her mouth, she didn't dare scream. Anne felt him touching her, and she bit back sobs. She was just about to resign herself to her fate. Her body wanted to play dead, when she heard what sounded like footsteps coming from the other way.

Without thinking, Anne turned her head the other way and screamed at the person coming down the road.

"Help me!"

Anne felt the man trying now to climb off of her as the person ran over faster than Anne would have anticipated. The man got up and Anne tried to crawl away as the person tackled into the man.

Anne crawled back, eyes wide as she saw them struggle. Apples and a broken jar of honey littered the road. The two men yelled in their struggle, and Anne was able to recognize her savior at the same time that he stumbled back, a hand to his side with his eyes wide.

"Gilbert!" Anne screamed as Gilbert fell to his knees and the man began to run into the woods. "Gilbert!"

Anne crawled towards him as he rolled onto his back. He moaned and groaned, screaming as he took the hand from his side. Anne screamed too.

Blood was already spreading a large stain over his whole side, all leading from a dark gash. Anne felt her stomach turn again as panic spread through her.

"Oh my God, Gilbert. W-What do I do!?" Anne hands trembled.

Gilbert's head fell back onto the ground, his hands pressing to the wound. He seemed to be biting his lip to keep from screaming, but couldn't hold it in for long. Anne wanted to cry.

"I—I'm going to go get help!" Anne finally managed to get to her feet.

"Anne – Anne." Gilbert's voice shook, his eyes wide.

"I'll be right back!" Anne turned towards the way to his house.

"Anne –" Though his voice was too weak to be demanding, it compelled her to pause and look back. "A-Are… Are you…okay?"

"I'm fine." She told him, almost unable to believe he was asking now. Not letting him say anything else, Anne began to run towards Gilbert's house.

Anne had never run so fast in her life. Though her limbs were now sore in various places, she didn't seem to notice. There was only her pounding heart and pounding feet on the ground.

Anne cut through the field around the house and ran towards the door. Bash had been inside with Delphine when she'd stopped by earlier, but Anne could not waste a second, even if the baby was sleeping.

"Bash! Sebastian! Help!" Anne's throat went raw, her lungs already screaming for air as the run caught up with her. "Help!"

Sebastian burst through the door and came running, meeting her in the field. His eyes went right for her arms, and Anne knew by now that her knees and elbows were bleeding from her initial fall, but that was hardly important now.

"Anne, are –"

"It's Gilbert. He was stabbed." Anne was still panicking. "Th-There was a man with a knife, he –he stabbed him."

"What!?"

"Come on!" Anne grabbed his hand and tried to run back the way towards the road, but she saw Bash look back towards the house.

In that split second, Anne knew that them going would mean Delphine would be in the house alone, but she could not bring herself to think that was more important.

"He's bleeding! Please!" Anne begged and Bash nodded and followed her.

Anne felt dizzy with need to breath as she and Bash finally found where Gilbert lay. As they approached it, Anne kept wondering if they passed it. It felt so far back now that they were there.

"Gilbert, oh my God." Bash dropped down beside him.

Anne did the same, watching Gilbert's face. His eyes seemed unfocused, and Anne prayed that he would stay awake.

"Gilbert." Anne was crying now.

"Blythe? Eyes open, man. I'm gonna take you home." Bash went to pick him up, and Gilbert cried out in pain.

"You need something to stop the bleeding." Anne looked around wildly, hating that it was too warm for coats and scarves. That would be perfect—the scarf. Anne picked it up. "Here."

Bash rolled the scarf up and pressed the wad to the wound. Gilbert groaned but moved his hand to keep the cloth pressed and Bash picked him up.

"He needs a doctor." Bash said, his own voice rising with panic.

"The Mi'kmaq village." Anne breathed in realization.

"What?"

"They have a medicine woman. I'll be right back." Anne took off into the woods.

It was the only thing, she thought as she ran. The town doctor was miles and miles away, and she'd never make it there without a carriage.

She fell into line with the stream and soon saw signs of the fishermen Ka'kwet had once pointed out to her. Anne saw them up ahead at a wide part of the river, and she desperate called.

"Help, please!"

The men's eyes widened with fear and they began to back up. Anne knew the Mi'kmaq people did not like outsiders, and now they would have to accept her alone. Without Ka'kwet.

"Help me!" Anne waved her hands in plea, begging them not to leave. One of them noticed the blood on her and said something to the others. "Please!"

"You're hurt?" He asked in English.

"My friend. Please, I need your medicine woman's help. In your village, please." Anne said.

They all looked uncertain. The largest man, the one who knew some English, said something again to the others. Perhaps he was vouching for her. Perhaps he recognized her as Ka'kwet's friend.

"Please, he was hurt bad. Stabbed." Anne said.

"Stab?" The man asked, a serious look on his face.

"Stabbed." Anne desperately mimed the action of knife in and out. They all seemed to catch on, uneasy murmurs among them.

In the few seconds of their silence, with the only sounds her own panicked breathing and the rush of the river, Anne desperately wondered if Gilbert was even alive.

"Come with us." The large man said.

Anne had never come to the village from this way before, so she really did need their guidance. Still, she ran ahead of them. They began to run too, as maybe the gravity of it all began to dawn on them.

Anne saw the first line of the wigwams, and recognized them as the far side of the village that Anne did not get a chance to see. As they broke through the line of homes, many faces turned to her. Chatter broke out, whispers among each other. Other people only looked up a moment from their work.

Anne recognized Ka'kwet's father as he came towards them. The large man with Anne began to explain to him, pointing to Anne.

"Gesa'latl…" He was reporting. Anne felt sick with worry and wished they'd just let Anne take the medicine woman with her now.

"Your friend is hurt? In the woods?" He asked.

"Yes. A-At his house. I got someone to carry him home, but he needs stitches. He's very hurt."

Anne saw the medicine woman look at Ka'kwet's father in confusion. She seemed to be wondering why he wasn't getting them all ready to leave with urgency, ready to follow her lead. Anne wondered too.

"We cannot let our people go into your town." He said finally. "You have healers of your own."

"Please!" Anne began to cry again. The sight of tears on her face seemed to soften them. "Please, he'll die! He needs help right now! Please, I'm begging you!"

The medicine woman said something almost demanding towards them. Anne began to realize she wanted to help.

"Thank you, thank you!"

She nodded and disappeared back into the wigwam. She appeared a moment later with a hide bag of supplies. Ka'kwet's father took her arm and called back to those who had gathered, something in their language. Anne prayed it was something to keep any of them from protesting, but soon they were off.

The woman evidently did need a younger person's help. Unlike when she helped Moody, this was not a short journey, and it was all uneven ground. She had to hold the man's arm for most of it as they walked over the terrain.

Anne would run ahead and look back, watching the woman hurry best she could. She knew she couldn't beg the woman to hurry faster.

Finally, they were on the road. The way to Gilbert's house was clear. They kept up pace. The woman asked something of the man, and he translated.

"You said… stab? With a what?" He asked.

"He was stabbed with a knife." Anne told him, her voice shaking. "A man wanted to hurt him. A man we didn't know."

The woman asked something else and he translated.

"How deep is the wound?"

"I –I don't know." She admitted. "I couldn't really see it."

"Waqantew?" She asked Anne.

"What?"

"Is the bone showing?" He translated.

"Oh, God." Anne hadn't even thought of that. "I hope not."

The road finally emerged to the field of Blythe farm. Anne began to run ahead, only to stop and look back. The woman said something to Anne, nodding and pointing ahead. Anne took that to mean she could run on.

"Bash! Bash!" Anne had just called out as she run when the front door opened. Sebastian propped open the door and came to meet them. Anne saw blood all over Sebastian's clothes, and she somehow felt even sicker at the sight.

"He's bleeding bad." Sebastian reported to her, looking over to their guests. "You can help?"

"Show us who is hurt." The man said.

Anne let them all go in first, before following after them. Inside, Delphine was sitting up in her basket cooing, but Anne did not greet her.

Sebastian led the man and woman down the hall. Anne stayed in the living room, frozen. Her knees and elbows had stopped bleeding, but still sported bloody patches. Her dress and clothes were dirty, and her hat and Marilla's groceries were gone.

The weight of what the stranger was trying to do to her, did manage to do, felt as if it were finally on her, but she did not want to break from it. All she could think of was Gilbert dying, and that worry did not fade despite how weary she felt she was in her body.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Anne did not need to run. She did not need to hurry anywhere. Anne needed to wait, so she collapsed to sit on the floor.

And Anne waited.


	2. Chapter 2

Anne did not feel like herself. She was not flighty and talkative. She moved like a silent ghost, as she felt alone in the Blythe house with their guests in Gilbert's room, and Sebastian in Delphine's.

Sebastian came out, having changed into clean clothes and gotten Delphine to sleep, and placed a warm hand over her own. Though he smiled, she could see the worry in his face.

"We should clean those scrapes." He said.

So, like a child, Anne let him scrub gingerly at her elbows before taping down a swatch of clean bandage over each one. She did her knees herself, and then resigned herself to the kitchen table where she resisted the urge to pick at the strips of tape that touched her skin, causing an itch.

The Mi'kmaq people finally came down the hall and told her and Sebastian that the medicine woman had managed to stitch Gilbert's wound. It was deep, but it was closed.

"You must keep it clean and closed. Don't move him. Many weeks until he should get out of bed." Aluk, Ka'kwet's father told them.

Compelled to give them something, Anne watched as Sebastian sent them off with many jars of honey. Sebastian then left to get the Avonlea doctor, as they definitely needed someone to give another look. Anne stayed, telling herself peeking in at Gilbert was a bad idea. She didn't know what she expected to see.

When he came back, Matthew, Marilla, and Rachel were all in tow. Anne could imagine Matthew and Marilla coming for Anne's sake when Sebastian stopped to get them, but she couldn't imagine anyone stopped to actually invite Rachel, yet the woman honed in on small town gossip like no one else.

Marilla and Matthew pulled her into hugs and examined her patched scrapes, but Anne pulled away from their crushing weight and assured them she was fine before sitting back at the table.

It seemed to drag on into another hour when the doctor was in with Gilbert. Marilla offered to cook something for them and make tea, yet Anne did not feel like eating.

"Well, whoever it was that stitched him did a very good job." The doctor reported, finally emerging from Gilbert's room and folding his spectacles up to hang them from his breast pocket. "But he needs stronger medicine, and more of it than I have."

"For pain?" Anne asked, imagining Gilbert wallowing a few walls away.

"And infection." He nodded. "I am going to write out an order to take to a larger clinic. They should have enough to cover for how long he'll need it."

"Dr. Ward's in CHarlottetown?" Anne asked. "That's where Gilbert goes for his medical internship."

"Yes, he should have plenty of this." He wrote something out on a slip of paper.

It was then decided that Matthew would go first thing tomorrow. Anne knew she'd now never be allowed to go anywhere alone, and certainly not Charlottetown, and Sebastian might attract unwanted trouble on the train.

Reverend Allan arrived just as it was getting dark for nothing more than communal support. After pleasantries, he turned to Anne, serious.

"Anne, I want to ask you to explain exactly what happened. Who was this man that hurt Gilbert?" He asked.

"I –I don't know."

Anne glanced around the table and was aware now that all eyes were on her. For everyone, this would be the first time hearing the actual story without it being rushed or brushed around. Anne took a shaky breath and began.

"I'd never seem him before." She told them how he'd seemed lost and she offered to give him directions. She decided to skip around, as the only important part was Gilbert. "I started screaming when he pushed me, but he showed me a knife—"

Marilla gasped softly and reached for Matthew's hand. Rachel made a show of gasping louder and moaning.

"Oh, you poor child."

"Th-That's when I heard someone coming." Anne said. "I yelled for help, and it was Gilbert. He ran over and tried to fight the man… that's when the man must have stabbed him. Gilbert fell down and the man ran off."

"Why, this man could be anywhere!" Rachel stood up. "He could be attacking someone else right now! We must find him!"

"We will all keep a look out for strangers." Allan said. "I'll tell the congregation tomorrow."

"What did he look like?" Rachel pressed. "You said older?"

"No… but grey. He had grey hair but he seemed to only be in his thirties, maybe."

"And the accent? French? Or was he one of those dirty Italians –"

"Rachel, please." Marilla silenced her by placing a hand on her arm.

"No, the accent…" Anne stared down into the remaining dregs of her tea, thinking hard. "I think it was…fake." She looked up.

"Who fakes an accent?" Rachel asked in disbelief.

"Someone who is very good at pretending." Anne said, speaking only as someone with the upmost authority in such a thing. It dawned on her now too, that the man had been wearing layers to conceal his weapon, and a scarf for the gagging.

Reverend Allan promised to relay what he could at the service tomorrow as well as ask them all to pray for Gilbert, before taking his leave. Anne watched with worry out the window as it grew dark. For the dozenth time, Sebastian looked in on Gilbert.

"What does it mean that he's not awake yet?" Anne asked, stomach turning with worry.

"Doctor said he could be out from the shock or pain." Sebastian reminded Anne. "And the medicine."

"Come now, Anne." Marilla stood up. "We should get home."

"But –" Anne turned to look down the hall.

"Anne." Marilla's voice was soft, yet firm.

Anne hugged Sebastian and Delphine, and only with promise that she could come back tomorrow, Anne left with them.

They were all silent on the ride, only Rachel spoke, and that was more to herself than to anyone else in the carriage.

"A man with a knife, my word. What is this world coming to? An escapee from an asylum, I tell you. That's what he is. A crazy person, there's no other explanation. Just a crazy person."

"Rachel, please." Marilla sighed. "That's really enough excitement for one day."

They rode to Rachel's in silence, and then back to Green Gables the same way. Anne found herself thinking of the lost apples and honey. She was able to hold back yet another flood of tears as they arrived home.

Matthew went to put the horse up and Anne ran inside, crying softly. Marilla hurried in after her, catching her in the foyer.

"Anne…"

"It's all my fault, Marilla." Anne said, tears now down her face once more. "You're always saying I shouldn't talk to strangers, and I didn't listen. If I had just run away, this wouldn't have happened."

"It's not your fault, Anne." She said firmly, coming over to take her by the shoulders. "A man who carries a knife like that… why, he was always planning to hurt someone. You can't be responsible for him. He will answer to God for what he's done, even if he's never found."

"He could be anywhere on the island by now!" Anne wailed. "He could hurt someone else."

"He isn't going to come back here. You shouldn't worry yourself sick, Dear Heart."

Anne found that name oddly touching. Marilla had never called her that before. She felt soothed, her sobs subsiding as she reached up to wipe her eyes.

"Now, go wash your face and go to bed. You're overtired." She stroked Anne's hair, something that oddly made Anne want to pull away.

"Okay." Anne turned and was just on the stairs when Marilla cleared her throat just slightly.

"Anne, just a moment." She said. "I want to ask… and I want you to be honest. I'm not mad at you, I just want to know."

Anne somehow knew what Marilla was going to ask. She felt sick with it, yet she nodded, her eyes boring into the faded floral wall behind her. She couldn't look at her when she asked.

"Did this man try to—Did he—?" She seemed unable to find the words, so Anne cut her off.

"No." Anne said firmly, almost upset at the notion. She didn't know the word for it, or what it even was, but she didn't want to. "No. But… almost."

Anne turned and went back upstairs in silence, though she could have sworn she heard Marilla start to cry softly down below.

Anne scrubbed her face from a basin of water before changing into a nightgown. By the light of the oil lamp, Anne examined her neck in the mirror. The thin line of blood was gone and she couldn't see the cut, though she could still feel its sting.

Anne then found herself touching her hair, fingers sliding down her braids. Usually, she slept in them and redid them in the morning, but she didn't want to see herself in them any longer. Besides, they had almost already come unloose in the struggle. She took the ties off of them and used her fingers to comb out her hair.

She shoved her dirty dress into the bottom drawer of her dresser and climbed into bed. She pulled the covers up to her ears, leaving only a sliver of space so that she could watch the burning lamp.

Marilla would get onto her if she let it burn all night, and though she vowed to turn it off before she fell asleep, she did not think she'd even actually get to drift off.

Anne slept restlessly, the adrenaline and panic of running very fast weaved in and out of her dreams. She awake just as dawn broke and she quickly turned off her lamp and waited for the sunlight to fill her room.

The house was still below her, but Anne was restless. She opened her window and poked her head out at Snow Queen. Her blossoms were no longer snowy white, but Anne decided to pretend they were.

She let her elbows rest on the sill and let the warm morning air onto her face. Was Gilbert awake now, she wondered.

After a while, she heard Matthew and Marilla stir below her. Anne decided to go downstairs to see Matthew off. She made sure Matthew had the note from the Avonlea clinic and knew exactly what to say.

From the porch, she watched Matthew in the carriage disappear down the road. Her eyes stayed on that path, and what lie beyond it.

"Anne, you should wait until this afternoon." Marilla said, as if she knew exactly what Anne was thinking.

Oddly, she knew it wasn't a suggestion. Marilla was really saying she wasn't allowed to go on her own. She wanted to feel it was an injustice, why, just a few weeks ago Matthew was vouching for her to go to Nova Scotia, and now she couldn't even walk down the road.

And yet, the idea of the walk, of going alone through the same woods, send a strange chill through her. Then the thought that was losing her independent spirit scared her more than anything.

"Sit and eat." Marilla said, a gentle suggestion that again, sounded compelling.

Anne hadn't really had anything since yesterday's apple, yet she wasn't hungry. Still, she did as she was told. It was strange that it was a Sunday, yet they were not going to church. She was grateful for it, in that she didn't want to see so many people now, yet she was also surprised Marilla was allowing her to stay home.

Anne gathered ink and paper while Marilla started some chores. Writing always helped her, but even perched by her window with a view of the field, she felt oddly wordless.

Their absence at the service would be noticed, and then Rachel would tell everyone the gossip. Once the reverend told them to watch for a strange man with a knife… why, Anne was sure all her friends would think her dead.

She found herself writing, pen dotting ink over the paper. She was without pausing to look up synonyms in her dictionary, since for once, she didn't care if the words were beautiful.

_**Dear Cole,**_

_**How are you? Things are horrible here. Something very bad happened to me. **_

Not caring to share the story again, she launched into the feelings rather than the details.

_**I am drowning, drowning with worry and guilt. I try to breath, but water floods my lungs. I want to go back in time, anything to stop this. Perhaps if I had not screamed, and just let it happen, Gilbert wouldn't have been hurt.**_

_**What if he never wakes up? I can never see Bash or Dellie again, because it will be my fault Gilbert died. Mary is gone, and now he will be too. They will leave Avonlea and—**_

Anne could imagine word spreading that she was too blame for Gilbert's death. Ruby would hate her. Those who thought her trash would continue to think of her that way and those who gave her the benefit of the doubt for these past years would quickly retract.

Anne couldn't bear to solidify anymore of her feelings in writing. She left the letter unfinished and glanced out the window.

The site of Diana coming up the walk sent Anne running to meet her. Anne threw open the door and began running across the yard. She and Diana collided in a hug.

"You weren't at church and someone said they saw Matthew going to the train station." Diana breathed, still holding her. "We all thought the worst… and then Reverend Allan told us what happened. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." Anne said quickly.

"Everyone from class made me swear I'd tell them everything. They're all still at lunch at the church, but I ran straight here." Diana held her now at arm's length and looked her over. Anne was aware now that she still hadn't gotten dressed. "How's Gilbert?"

"What exactly did Reverend Allan say?" Anne asked, wondering now if the blame had been properly placed on her.

"Just that there was some sort of accident. Someone tried to hurt you and Gilbert or something?" Diana's brow furrowed with worry and confusion.

Anne took Diana by the hand and pulled her inside. Upstairs and in the privacy of her room, Anne quickly put away Cole's letter into a drawer of the desk and capped the ink.

They then sat down on the bed, cross-legged, and Anne told Diana everything. Diana was always Anne's favorite audience, as she gasped or laughed in all the right places of a story, but there were no happy parts in this one.

"Rachel Lynde says he was a crazy person." Anne finished. "Like from an asylum."

"He probably was, Anne." Diana nodded, eyes wide with worry. "My father says crazy people will do anything and they never have to have a sound reason for why."

Once upon a time, Anne might have thought such a story granted so much scope for imagination. Why, it had all the proper things. A strong-willing heroine, who somehow still gets in danger. A villain, and even a hero who saves her.

A hero. Gilbert. Anne quickly pulled herself from thoughts of childish whimsy.

"Are you going to run back to the church and tell everyone from class?" Anne asked.

"Do you want me to? I only will if you want me to."

"I don't know." Anne let her head fall back onto her pillow. "I suppose so, in a way. Then I won't have to tell it myself."

"I won't be able to do it justice, word-wise." Diana said, placing a hand over hers. "But I'll save you the act of retelling, if you want."

"Thank you, Kindred Spirit." Anne managed a weary smile and gave Diana a crushing hug.

She finished Cole's letter with generic words of telling him not to worry on her behalf, and instead to keep Gilbert in his prayers. She placed the folded letter in his shawl pocket and sighed.

Nothing seemed to occupy her, and it did not help that she didn't want to leave her room, not if she couldn't go see Gilbert.

Marilla told her to come down and have lunch, and Anne padded down the stairs, mentally going over the argument in her head that she was about to make on why she should be able to leave right now.

"Why, you aren't even dressed. " Marilla sighed when she saw Anne. "Put your clothes on after you eat, and you can get going."

"Going?" Anne's heart pounded.

"Yes, well, there's no use in having you sit here and mope." Marilla placed a plate down on the table, hint of smile on her face. "If you're very careful on the walk, you can go on ahead to see Gilbert. Matthew should get there in a little while, and then you can come back together."

"Oh, Marilla, thank you!" Anne sat at the table, finding the urge to eat for the first time in a day. After wolfing down her food, Anne ran back upstairs.

She dressed in clean clothes, pulling stockings on over her bandaged knees and reaching for her brush. After brushing her hair out, she reached instinctively for ties for her hair, but stopped.

After a moment's consideration, Anne left her room and went downstairs, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders.

Outside, Anne walked quickly towards the gate, then stopped. It was the same route to school, nothing of it. But beyond the stretch of field was the stretch of woods. Anne didn't think of it as her pretend land anymore.

Not if there was still a threat out there, and she didn't mean Billy or a fox. Why, she'd face Billy a million times over.

She hated herself for having fear in her heart. She always told herself that her imagination could her protect her from anything, and it always had. But this was worse than even Mr. Thomas in a drunken rage.

Still deep in thought, Anne stepped outside the gate, her arm still reaching back to touch Green Gable's fence.

"Where are you going?" Jerry's sudden voice made Anne flinch, but she didn't look back at him.

"Go away, I'm thinking."

"What are you thinking about?" He leaned over the fence from the other side, putting his feet up on the lower board the way they both used to.

"Nothing, leave me alone." Anne could not build up her courage with him bothering her, and based on his usual casual annoyance, he did not know about what happened, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Alright." He shrugged and hopped down from the fence. "See ya—"

"Wait." Anne turned back, face reddening. "Walk with me."

"Where're you walking?"

"Doesn't matter, it's on your way home, though."

"Yeah, okay." Jerry walked around through the fence and they fell into step down the road.

Anne felt so much better with someone with her, which made her feel oddly worse. She didn't want to have someone with her all the time, but as they went deeper through the line of trees into the woods, she couldn't deny it was easier to do this now.

"So, where was Mr. Cuthbert today?" Jerry asked.

"None of your business." Anne sighed. Suddenly, the snapping of twigs made Anne jump. She instinctively pressed closer to Jerry as both of them turned to look off the path. After a moment, Anne saw a rabbit jump between two bushes.

"What? What is it?" Jerry stared into the trees, seemingly having noticed such a minor sound.

"Nothing." Anne sighed again, the weight of it all on her again. She felt like crying. Was she really doomed to a life of being too afraid to even walk down the road? "it's just… something happened last night."

Once again, she told the story and skipped over most of the details. With the entire church now knowing to spread it as far as Carmody, she hoped this would be the last time.

"That's awful, Anne." Jerry said when she'd finished. "Maybe this man wanted your money?"

"I don't have any money." Anne said, feeling her annoyance grow. Why did they have to talk about this at all?

"But he probably figured you did, because you're always dressed nice, so he probably thought that—"

"So, you're saying it was my fault!?" Anne stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"No, Anne –"

"I already know it was, so just drop it, okay!?"

Jerry had seemed to step back from her, eyes wide. Anne stood, her own face red and breathing heavy. She expected him to just stalk off and leave her, the way he did when they used to bicker. Instead, he just stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, Anne. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know you didn't. Come on, I want to get there fast."

Once they parted ways for Jerry to go home, Anne managed to walk to rest of the way alone without trouble, she just ran until she reached Gilbert's house. She crossed the yard and knocked on the door.

"Anne, come inside." Sebastian was holding Delphine.

"How is he?" Anne asked, finally ready to hear the worst. "Did he wake up yet? Did he say anything?"

"He woke up about an hour ago, drank some water, and fell back asleep." Sebastian settled Delphine back into her basket. "He was saying something, but didn't make much sense."

"Can I see him?" Anne's heart pounded and her stomach flipped when he nodded.

Anne walked upstairs and down the hall towards his room. She realized then that she'd never been in Gilbert's room, but she didn't even have to knock.

The door was propped open and Anne peered inside. Gilbert was laying in bed, his eyes closed. Anne approached slowly, watching as the sunlight from in between the curtains passed over his face. She watched for a rise and fall of his chest –finally sighing in relief when she saw he was breathing. Still, he seemed so pale and fragile in this state.

"Gilbert? Gilbert, it's Anne." She sat in the chair that Sebastian had left by his bed.

The last time she'd seen him, he'd been slowly covering in blood, but she saw no sign of the wound now. Someone had put a clean shirt on him, and the blanket covered the spot where he'd been patched up.

"Anne…?" Gilbert opened his eyes and looked her way.

"How do you feel?" She found herself smiling in relief of actually seeing him awake.

"…Thirsty." He decided, after thinking for a moment.

"I can go get you some water, I should tell Bash you're awake –"

"No." Gilbert cleared his throat. "Don't go."

"Okay." She sat back down.

"Anne…who was that man hurting you?"

"I don't know, but he's gone now." She wanted to push past this. "Does it hurt? The doctor said the knife went under your rib."

Gilbert touched the spot from over the blanket, as if thinking of it for the first time. Anne saw him wince in pain.

"Not that bad…" He said, but by the way he kept biting his lip and closing his eyes, Anne knew he was lying. "Did he give me stitches?"

"No, the Mi'kmaq woman did, since they had to do it fast. You lost a lot of blood, I think that's why you've been asleep all this time."

"How long has it been?"

"Almost a day."

Anne noticed the way his hand laying over the covered clenched and unclenched in time every few moments. It reminded her of the way Cole would do the same with a ball of clay.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a moment.

"Fine." She breathed. "You saved me, you know."

She'd been so worried about him dying, that she didn't get a chance to think of how she'd feel if he lived. Guilty, of course, guilt flared through her every time she saw him flinch.

But for the first time, maybe seeing his face did it, she felt the immense gratitude flow through her. He was alive, and he'd be okay. They'd both be okay, because of him.

"It was nothing…" Gilbert muttered, cutting his eyes away as Anne noticed a slight flush on his pale face.

She told Gilbert about the doctor sending for medicine at the clinic. Gilbert nodded, hand touching his wound again as he stared at the ceiling, and Anne wondered if he was making sense of it all, if he knew exactly the state of himself just from the type of medicine he was getting. She was just about to ask what his medical opinion was on himself, just from being on the receiving end of the wound, when he spoke up.

"So, someone sewed me up… and I didn't even get to watch."

Anne laughed, feeling every worry fall from her shoulders. He was okay, he was really okay. Gilbert chuckled too, before quickly groaning and pressing a hand to the spot.

"I'm sorry, does it hurt?" She asked, lifting a hand to her mouth.

"No…just don't make me laugh, okay?"

"Sorry…" She bit her lip to hold in laughter and saw him doing the same. That only made it funnier, for some reason.

"Hey, Blythe, you're awake. Someone else wants to see you." Sebastian was holding Delphine in Gilbert's doorway and Anne looked over their shoulder and smiled at them.

"Hey, what's the status on teeth?" Gilbert asked.

"You haven't been out that long." Sebastian chuckled. "They're still just trying to come in."

"Maybe I should go now." Anne said.

"No, stay." Gilbert said, hand flexing. "Please."

"Okay." Anne smiled.

Sebastian pull Delphine's basket in another chair by Gilbert's bedside so he and Anne could watch her. He then brought a water and something for pain for Gilbert, which he drank from with some difficulty, since he wasn't supposed to sit up.

Sebastian then opened the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight. Both Anne and Gilbert blinked in the sudden brightness, and Sebastian grinned.

"There, Blythe, that ought to help with your sickly pale face." He chuckled.

"Thank you." Gilbert rolled his eyes and Anne chuckled.

"I should go finish a few things outside. Now that you're up, you two can watch Dellie."

"Yes, it's no trouble." Anne nodded.

She then looked out the window and watched Sebastian enter the yard below and start pulling at weeds in the garden. Their own sported healthy radishes, but it seemed that Sebastian was having trouble sowing the same life that Mary did.

"I need to get up. I have to be able to work." Gilbert said.

"Don't be stupid." Anne sighed. "You can't get up."

"But there's so much to do, and he can't do it alone." Gilbert said. There was a slight strain in his voice that Anne knew all too well, the feeling of wanting to cry while also _not _wanting to.

"I'll help him." Anne said instantly.

"What?" His voice rung with disbelief, but Anne pressed on.

"I can help him. Me or Marilla can watch Dellie in the morning so he can work, and I'll pitch in after school, too." She knew Marilla and Rachel were growing weary with Delphine, but she could convince them to keep helping. After all, how wrong would it be of them to leave Sebastian and Gilbert in such need after everything.

"Anne—"

"And I can bring you your school work, every day. Just like I did before, remember?" Anne was starting to feel like her old self again, feeling her mind whirl with many ideas. "You won't get behind, I promise. You'll have everything you need before exams get here, okay?"

She knew she could get Ms. Stacy to help her, to give her time to make extra notes of the lessons for Gilbert. And with Reverend Allan's congregation hearing about Gilbert being hurt, all the wives would likely send over food, so no one had to worry about cooking for at least a little while.

"Thank you, Anne." Gilbert looked like he wanted to add something, before the interruption of Matthew came.

He brought jars of medicine that Dr. Ward sent, all in a small wooden crate. There was also a long note about what to do to clean and redress the wound, along with word that they should make sure the Avonlea doctor came to give him a check-up every few days.

Sebastian decided that he could do that after Anne and Matthew left, but luckily Matthew didn't say yet it was time to go. Sebastian asked for Matthew's advice about something out in the garden, and Anne sat by Gilbert's beside as he re-read Dr. Ward's note.

"He didn't say what he thought." Gilbert mumbled. "About the paper I left when I was there yesterday morning. I left him that article about the antitoxins I'd taken from the newspaper, but he didn't say he'd read it."

"Maybe he's just waiting to tell you in person." Anne said. "You'll be back up before you know it."

"Right." Gilbert folded Dr. Ward's letter and left it on the bed before looking at her. "I'm just glad you're okay. That's all that matters to me."

"You being okay is all that matters to me." Anne said, almost in disbelief that he, that _anyone_ was still asking about her, when all she had to show were scrapes. She tucked a lock of her loose hair behind her ear and turned to see Matthew in the doorway.

"Anne?"

"Just a moment." She called over her shoulder. Matthew nodded and Anne knew it was time to go. A flood of sadness came over her as she recalled something else. "There's something else," She looked back at Gilbert.

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raising at the sudden sadness in her voice.

"It's your honey. Sebastian had to give it all away to pay the Mi'kmaq people, I'm so sorry."

"Oh." He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "That's okay. That's fine, I can get more."

"That's right, you have your own bee hive." Anne recalled. She looked down, fiddling with loose threads on her shawl for a moment. "I've always wondered, how do you take their honey without them stinging you?"

But when Anne looked up, Gilbert's eyes were closed and he was breathing softly. Figuring he had to sleep a lot to regain his strength, Anne decided that she should go. As she stood up, her eyes fell to his hand on the edge of the bed.

She then shook her head slightly to clear her mind before going downstairs to meet Matthew and head home.

That night, Anne found her lack of sleep from the night previous was catching up with her. She turned in early, right after supper and found herself already drifting, but she forced herself to stay awake, just for a few more moments, as this was important.

"Dear Heavenly Father," Anne rolled onto her back in bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Thank you so much more letting Gilbert live. I swear I will never, ever, take his friendship for granted again. I'll help him every day until he gets better. Yours faithfully, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert… with an E."

She turned off her lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, and closed her eyes. She'd been very sick a few times in her life, but she couldn't imagine being confided to bed for many weeks at a time. It honestly sounded awful.

When forced to bed for even a day, as various homes punished her in that way, she always would play a game. Pull her legs up onto the bed and imagine she was stranded, her bed a raft afloat in sea, and she was never certain she'd reach land.

She looked back on that game fondly now, and wondered if Gilbert would feel stranded the way she had.

Anne fell asleep and dreamed of herself adrift, but this time, not alone.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait," Anne raised her hand to prevent Ms. Stacy from erasing the board. Her other hand wrote wildly, trying to catch everything for her own notes to copy later. "Just a moment, I'm almost done."

"We can't all wait around for you to catch up." Josie scoffed from somewhere behind her.

"These notes are for Gilbert!" Anne snapped, turning around in her seat.

Josie immediately fell silent and looked back down at her own work. Anne was angry she even had to remind anyone she was working not just for two students, but two college hopefuls, and both of her note sets had to be up to standards.

For the past week, Anne had gone straight to Gilbert's after school, and while he assured her he was thankful for her help, she couldn't help but feel as if he wasn't getting the knowledge he could be getting if she just worked harder to get absolutely everything Ms. Stacy was saying.

"Take your time, everyone." Ms. Stacy left everything up on the board. "That's all for today, everyone."

Anne's classmates got up and went for their hats and bags before leaving. The usual chatter and goofing around fill the room, but Anne stayed rooted, writing.

"Anne, do you mind if I speak to you for a moment?" Ms. Stacy asked.

Anne glanced up from her notes to her teacher, and then to Diana who was waiting by her desk. She usually accompanied her on the walk, but Anne figured if this was about extra work for Gilbert, then it might take a while.

"You can go on ahead, Diana." Anne reluctantly told her friend.

Diana nodded, giving Anne a sad smile before joining Jane and Ruby. Anne gathered her things and walked to Ms. Stacy's next.

Ms. Stacy watched the students leave, and only turned to Anne once they were alone. Her eyes held a sadness and pity that Anne had seen in other adults all too well.

"Anne, how are you?" She asked softly.

"Fine." Anne answered with almost confusion. Why did everyone keep asking that when she wasn't the one with a knife in her side and actual stitches in her actual skin?

"Are you sure? It's alright if you're not. What happened… it can leave scars…"

"I don't have scars." Anne knew that for sure, as she'd taken off her bandages days ago to see the cuts on her elbows and knees had healed over completely.

"I don't mean on the outside." Ms. Stacy seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "I mean, sometimes after you still feel like you're still hurting on the inside."

"I'm_ fine_." Anne never thought she'd be so short with one of her favorite people, but it was as if everyone was seeing something she couldn't, while ignoring the person who actually needed everyone's sympathy.

"Anne, if you ever need to talk—"

"I've been through worse. I should really get to Gilbert's." Anne quickly gathered her things and walked out.

She adored Ms. Stacy, so of course Anne would have loved the chance to talk privately and about matters of home and school and all in between, but Anne didn't even know what she'd say.

Even if she did have the time or the words, it wasn't important. Sooner or later, she'd be able to stop thinking about it, but Gilbert would likely always have an actual scar, and she couldn't erase that.

Outside, Anne could see the crowd of her classmates walking in pairs and groups rather far up ahead, but she was calmed by watching them. As long as she had someone in her line of sight, she didn't feel the same fear she did when completely alone.

She kept the others in her sight and listened to their conversations and laughter carried back on the wind. The same wind that blew back her hair from hanging loose around her shoulders to whipping behind her like flames.

When she lifted her face towards the sun, she longed for its warmth to reignite her imagination. It at least lifted her mood to be leaving the stuffy classroom, and though she loved school, she found her spirit lifted further to be going to see Gilbert.

Though all she really did was watch after Delphine as she and Gilbert studied, it was almost like spending time with a friend. When Gilbert would be able to sit up enough to prop a book in his lap and work, it was almost like she could imagine that he was just fine, just the two of them making up a smaller study group, perhaps.

But then she would be forced to face reality when he eyes would glaze over and then squeeze shut tight in pain. A hand would press to his side and Anne would be brought to teary eyes with the heavy reminder of what happened.

Gilbert would always try to recover quickly, forcing his eyes open and a smile on his face and assure her that he was fine, but Anne would find it hard to enjoy the rest of their time together after that.

She once asked why he didn't just take more of the medicine, other than the logical fact of rationing what the clinic had given him. He then launched into some speech that was so scientific with wonderfully big words that Anne found herself wondering how it was that _she _got the reputation for always talking.

"Anne," Josie fell into step beside her and Anne didn't jump nearly as bad as she might have had it been darker. "I didn't mean to be short with you before, about the notes."

"Oh. I know." Anne honestly hadn't been thinking of it, but she did now realize that it was a little off for Josie to snap about something such as schoolwork, especially when they got along well now more often than not.

"I actually think it's nice of you to make all those notes for Gilbert, with the exams coming up and everything." Josie said. Anne looked to her as they walked, noticing a quietness in her usually-confident classmate.

"Josie, is everything okay?" Anne asked.

"Of course. My mother just doesn't think I should walk anywhere alone."

"Oh, I understand completely." Anne wondered if there was more, as the fall in Josie's shoulders was almost familiar, but she also knew how hypocritical it would be to press the issue when she herself couldn't stand such questions.

They got to the diverge that lead to Gilbert's house and she and Josie parted ways. With Josie asking to make sure that Anne told Gilbert she said hello, Anne crossed into the yard with a much lighter heart. She waved to Sebastian in the garden and he rose up, raising a hand from his shovel to wave back.

"Is Gilbert awake?" She called.

"Should be." Sebastian said. "I left Dellie in his room. Marilla left a little while ago."

Anne was glad she hadn't heard anything from Marilla about the exhaustion that came for caring for Delphine. She knew Marilla and Rachel couldn't pitch in forever, but she was just grateful for one less thing to worry about.

She let herself in, stopping to examine whatever it was that Marilla had started on the stove. Soup of some kind. Anne put her books down on the table and allowed herself a moment to add spices to the soup, as it was a recipe of Marilla's she knew well, she knew exactly what to do.

She then, of course, added something of her own before gathering her things and going upstairs. Like usual, Gilbert's door was left open.

Gilbert was sitting up with a pillow as a makeshift desk across his lap, a book a paper spread out over it. He was twiddling a pencil in his hand and there was a deep focus in his eyes, so much so that he didn't look up even as Anne took a few steps in.

She had to admit that Sebastian was taking very good care of Gilbert when she wasn't there. Most days, Gilbert would be wearing fresh clothes and there'd be a strong herbal scent that Anne knew had to be from whatever salve they were putting on his wound.

Anne let her eyes roam around the room in almost amusement, wondering how long until he noticed her. One thing that surprised Anne about this room was that there was a bit of mess, though she supposed that he hadn't actually been able to clean.

Delphine's basket was on the desk, the mess that had been there yesterday was now cleared away. Delphine was babbling softly to herself and giggled a bit when Anne looked over.

Anne gently placed a finger over her lips, signaling for the baby's compliance in quiet, before she began tiptoeing across the room. Still, an unbroken focus stayed on Gilbert's face, his eyes fixated on the page in the book, the pencil levering between two fingers.

Only when Anne was a foot from the bed was she plotting what to say. A scare would be rude, wouldn't it? Still, it was tempting. She opened her mouth—

"I know you're there, Anne." Gilbert smirked, but he did not look up.

"Well, a hello would have been nice, then." She couldn't hold back her own smirk as she collapsed down into the chair at his bedside. "Is that work for your apprenticeship?"

"No, actually." He sighed and looked. "Homework. I fell asleep last night before I finished it, and I just woke up a little while ago. I have to finish is before we go into the next section, or I'm going to be behind."

Anne knew the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was a sign of eyestrain, as she'd observed it in Marilla plenty of times before. She then stood up and turned to the window behind her before widening the curtains.

"You know," She looked at the book over his shoulder. "We went over that today. I could find the answers in my notes."

"That's cheating, Anne." He turned a page.

"It's note-sharing." Anne sat down and began searching for the page in her notes. "It's not cheating if-"

"Works for me."

Much to Anne's surprise, as she'd had a speech planned, Gilbert just turned to her and held out a hand for the notes. He much have been able to see her slight disappointment in not being able to make her case, because he then asked her to explain each answer to him, so it was effectively the same as if learning it in class.

Anne launched into her explanation, listing the examples Ms. Stacy used, but also adding her own flood of words and metaphors. Gilbert wrote down the bare essentials for each answer, and then just let her talk, resting the pencil behind his ear in between each question. Anne found her eyes would drift towards it, and then follow his hand when he reached back for it to write the next answer.

Finally, he finished the assignment and they got ready to move to the one for that night. They usually worked quietly, only occasionally answer-sharing. But now that Anne had introduced the term of note-sharing, Gilbert was eager to let her go on to finish faster.

Just when Anne thought they could sail through the assignment, Gilbert began making a point to combat her on most of her points. She could tell he wanted a healthy debate. There was a slight spark in his eyes when he would glance over to ask the dreaded question; _are you sure?_

As much as Anne enjoyed the ebb and flow of their debates, there was a sudden snag inside of her. In the past, their times of most passionate disagreement would occasionally turn to very much a disagreement, and didn't she swear to be nice to him from now on?

"Whatever you think is fine, then." Anne tried to smile earnestly before looking back at her own work.

"Are you sure?" He asked again.

"Sure." She didn't look up, suddenly fixated on her work, pencil scraping across the paper.

She didn't see if there was any disappointment in his face as he leaned back and closed his books. She looked up to see him putting his papers in between the pages to save his place.

"I'm done for now." He sighed. "I'll finish the rest later tonight."

Anne looked up uneasily. If he was finding it too strenuous to finish each night's work, it really would start to pile up, and he would get behind. If this was his way in getting her engaged in debate, she felt it working.

"A-Are you sure? We could do the last ones together. I bet my answers are better than yours." She smiled hopefully.

"I'm sure they're on par." He chuckled, closing his eyes and rubbing the spot between his eyes once more. "I'm just tired."

"Okay." Anne closed her own books. She could finish hers later, too. "Are you hungry or something?"

"No…" He leaned back. Anne knew what was coming with the way his face drained of color, sweat suddenly beading at his temple.

Anne felt her heart sink as his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth gritted, his jaw setting tight. His left hand reached over his lap under the pillow and press against the spot of the wound through his shirt. His right hand lay on the edge of bed, palm up and with fist clenching and unclenching to fight the pain.

Something instinctual caused her to reach down and place her hand in his.

It wasn't the first time she'd held his hand, but before, it was different. The fact that it had been a mandatory dance practice made it so…coordinated. That was what she'd told herself when she'd found herself facing him in practice, still, there was a very much unusual rush of warmth when they did join hands, regardless of the fact that it was mandatory.

It was with a fluttering beat of her heart, how she'd first felt when she and Diana joined hands and pledged their friendship, but much stronger. He'd smiled at her, looked at her as if she wasn't just a friend, wasn't just a homely orphan girl.

Like he felt it too.

But then their hands hand parted and the music dropped. Anne had never felt her heart race so, and her head spin with a million things she couldn't define.

She tried not to think about it, as it hadn't really been anything.

But now, as she took his hand in sickness, her guilt ebbed and that warmth took its place. To her surprise, Gilbert squeezed her hand, pressing their palms flush together.

Her eyes moved to his face, worry still etched on as he took hissing breaths through his teeth. After a moment, his pain seemed to subside. His body seemed to relax, the tension in his face fading. Finally, his grip loosened, though his fingers still curled around hers.

"Gilbert? Does it hurt?" She asked, looking down to the hand over the wound as if she'd expected it to be gushing blood again.

"No, no, just sometimes." He breathed, his eyes finally opening. Anne watched the color return to his face as he finally managed to looked over.

He was looking into her eyes for a moment, before slowly glancing downwards. Anne looked too, down to where their hands were still joined. She felt her face burning, unsure what to do or say, when Delphine started crying.

Anne quickly pulled her hand out of his and stood up. She turned her back to him, heart still pounding and scooped up Delphine.

"Hey, it's alright little girl…" Anne gently patted Delphine's back, feeling her own pulse steady. "I think she needs changing. I should check on dinner, too."

She felt slight relief in stepping out of the room for a moment. After changing the baby and swaddling her back up, she went to the stove and checked the soup before getting out bread to slice.

She was often distracted when setting the table at home, and there was no exception here. Paused with hand holding a spoon hovering in mid air, she could help but think of the way she felt just now, compared to how she felt when they danced.

Anne always had admiration for Gilbert, once passed all the annoyance. She had to admire anyone who could hold their own against her in academics. She told herself there had to be an even stronger feeling of that now.

What he did…it was chivalrous, really. She remembered how she thought he fit the part of a hero if her life was a story as she so often wanted it to be.

Heroic admiration. Why, it did feel so much stronger than academic admiration.

"Head in the clouds?" Sebastian walked in, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face.

"I was just thinking." Anne quickly finished placing the spoon and napkin on the tray. "Dinner's ready, and I just changed Dellie."

"A blessing, you are. We'd be so lost here without your family's kindness." He smiled at her, and Anne tried to manage one back. All she could think of was that she wouldn't be here without Gilbert's.

She was finding words to reply, when she looked up to see Sebastian put Delphine in his lap and tried to spoon soup into her mouth. Relieved to be taken out of such a spot, she took the tray upstairs.

"I'm not hungry." Gilbert said when she carried the tray in.

Anne could be just as stubborn as Gilbert, and even though she knew all the tricks and trades of it, she felt as if she wasn't in the place to force him. Just as she felt bad about fighting him on homework, she'd feel bad about fighting him on this too.

"Please eat." Was all she could manage. "For me? I will if you do."

Reluctant or not, Anne was filled with immense relief when he let her put the tray over the pillow on his lap. Anne then resumed her place at the chair at his bedside, holding her bowl on her lap.

"So, tell me about school." Gilbert said. "Other than the lessons, I mean. What's everyone saying…about me, I mean? No one's really been by, except for Charlie, and he told me explicitly that it was because his mother made him."

"Well," Anne sighed. "Ruby is convinced you're bleeding out at every moment, and says she couldn't stand to see you in such a state. Moody wants to compare stitch scars… when you're well again."

That earned a laugh from Gilbert, followed by a wince. Anne was reaching down, holding his wrist before she even realized what she was doing, she then pulled back just as fast.

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm okay, really. I just need to lay down." He said. Anne took the tray and mostly empty bowl off his lap.

Gilbert had once tried to explain to her in less eloquent and more nauseating terms, the exact details of stitched wounds of his type, but once he'd gotten to the fact that he could accidentally tear the stitches if strenuous, Anne had found herself wincing away and begging him to stop talking.

He'd spared her the rest of the details, but she understood the gist was that he was hurt in just the spot where it hurt to laugh. That only added to Anne's guilt, but there was also something poetic in the image of being deprived of such a pleasure.

He'd put his pillow back behind him with the other one and moved to lay down flat. Again, she took his hand. There was slightly less warmth in a rush of chivalrous admiration, and now just anguish as she helped him lay flat.

"Thank you for coming by, Anne." He said softly, closing his eyes.

"I'm coming back tomorrow, too." She reminded him firmly. "And I'm going to make the others visit you too, I know they miss you."

Anne wouldn't let anyone use exams as an excuse. She knew for a fact that the boys _still _wasted time at the creek many afternoons, so there was nothing stopping them from seeing Gilbert. She knew she could at least make Diana come, the prospect of that and the fact that Gilbert could be lonely hadn't occurred to her.

"Anne," Sebastian stepped into the open doorway. "Matthew's downstairs."

Though it was just twilight outside, Anne knew it was quite like Marilla to continue to prevent her from walking in the dark, especially knowing what she did about the truth of the attack.

"Alright." Anne was very aware now of her hand still in Gilbert's and let go, leaving his to hover for a moment before lowering, empty.

Anne sifted through his books and notes to get out the work he did finish and promised to give it to Ms. Stacy tomorrow. She tried not to feel even more guilt about the fact that if he was falling asleep now, he'd stay behind in work due tomorrow.

"Bye, Gilbert." Anne found herself reluctant in gathering her own books.

"Bye, Anne." He said softly, his eyes closed and his breathing now slower.

With Gilbert falling asleep, Anne turned off his lamp and followed Sebastian downstairs and outside onto the porch.

"He appreciates you coming." Sebastian said. "Even if he don't say it much."

"It's the least I could do with me being his cause for such a tragic state." Anne sighed. "I shouldn't be his cause in falling behind in school too, not to close to exams."

"It's not just the studying." Sebastian smiled, but Anne just shook her head.

"I suppose he must also feel so alone, otherwise he'd mind my company so often."

"Anne…"

"Everything okay?" Matthew asked softly, approaching the steps. "Time to go, Anne. It's gettin' late."

"Bye, Bash." Anne shoved down the last of her sadness and followed Matthew.

On the ride home, it grew darker, especially when they went through the woods. Anne hated that her eyes snapped to every semblance of movement, and she wished she could just be carefree again.

She walked silently inside and went upstairs, knowing she was just going to finish her homework before going to bed. She blinked in confusion as she went to dump her books on the desk and saw a letter there.

The postmark from Charlottetown had Anne's heart skipping beats as she grabbed it up and sat on the bed, pulling the light of the lamp closer as she tore it open, grinning at words of a dear friend.

_**Dearest Anne,**_

_**I'm so sorry to hear about what happened to you, and I'm sorry my correspondence is so late. Maybe you can understand when I tell you this:**_

_**Aunt Jo wants to go to Avonlea to visit Diana and her sister. She'd been planning to for weeks, and asked me to come too.**_

_**I never wanted to. I couldn't if it meant facing my family after I ran away, but I left more behind than just them. I want to see you and Diana, too, and Gilbert.**_

_**So, I have decided to come with Jo on the train next Friday. **_

_**I am not so eloquent with words as you are, so I will just ask of you…please do not tell anyone I am coming. I do not want it to get back to my parents. **_

_**See you soon.**_

_**-Cole.**_

Anne smiled at the drawings Cole did within the margins of the letter. It was the lake of shining waters pooled under the last line, with flowers and reeds curling around his name at the bottom. A sun and clouds floating above her own name at the top.

As much as Anne wanted to display his letter on the wall behind her desk, among all the other drawings of his she'd saved, she knew it was best to keep the contents hidden. So she folded it up and put it somewhere safe.

Anne had almost forgotten secret of Cole's visit as she ate breakfast and fed the horses before walking to school. It wasn't until she met up with Diana on the walk that she was reminded she was keeping something.

"I have news." Diana said excitedly, falling into step beside her. "Aunt Jo is coming next week! She'll be staying for a whole weekend."

"That's great." Anne tried to smile unknowingly.

"I wonder if Cole will be alright alone." Diana's curiosity sounded innocent, but Anne still felt the strange sense of wrong as she lied to her best friend.

"I'm sure Cole will be fine. Um, I bet Minnie May is excited?"

"Yes." Diana rolled her eyes. "She can't wait to play her solo for Aunt Jo. I just hope she doesn't go back to Charlottetown in even worse health."

Anne tried to laugh. How strange it would be for Cole to be back. What would everyone in their class say? At least Gilbert now had one more guaranteed visitor, which reminded her.

"You should come with me to see Gilbert today." Anne said as they approached the school yard. As if sensing Diana's apprehension, she tacked on. "There's no blood or anything, I swear. He looks fine."

"Of course I'll come, Anne." Diana nodded. "My mother was saying I should anyways. If you really don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" Anne asked.

"Anne! Anne! You're on the board!" Tillie shrieked happily.

"Oh no!" Anne groaned. She'd kept her arm linked in with Diana's through the woods and let it fall now as she ran around the side of the building to the take notice board.

The last few students stepped away from the board, chatting and laughing at whatever they'd seen as Anne pushed to stand in front of it. Her eyes scanned among jumbled names and handwriting, looking for dreaded words of her and Charlie.

_**Josie Pye and Billy Andrews went out on Saturday night.**_

_**Ruby Gillis walked home with Moody Spurgeon.**_

Her face grew pale before flushing deep read as she finally locked onto one at the very bottom.

_**Anne Shirley spends every day at Gilbert Blythe's house.**_

Anne reached up and tore the note off the board. Something, a mix of embarrassment and anger was causing her to shake.

"Anne, what did it say?" Diana walked up beside her.

"Nothing." Anne crumbled it small and shoved it in her pocket. "Just something stupid."

She was seething as she walked inside to her desk. Didn't anyone understand anything? She was helping Gilbert because it was _her _fault he was hurt. They were friends, and acting like there was anything else going on was practically implying they didn't even remember he was injured in the first place.

Anne glanced around the classroom, wondering who could have written the note. Everyone was chatting carefree. Only Josie was silent, bent over her notes, writing.

That seemed quite suspect of her, but as Anne watched her longer, she realized there was no malicious giggling or smirks her way. In fact, she didn't seem to be paying anything any attention. Her hand was still, though pencil pressed to paper, as if she were thinking of what to write.

Or, as Anne knew it well, pretending to write but really just daydreaming. It didn't seem like a happy dream, based on the look on her face.

"Hey, Josie…" Anne whispered, concerned.

Josie looked up just as Ms. Stacy began class. Anne reluctantly turned back around in her chair. She got out her notebook and got right to taking notes, but she too found her mind wandering.

She wondered how Gilbert was. What was he doing now? Still asleep, or was he up doing his schoolwork? She imagined his wound being cleaned again. She'd never seen the stitches in his side, but they were easy to imagine.

Was he in pain? Anne felt her heart clench at even the thought. He'd really never complained once, she recalled. That really was awfully brave of him.

As she forced her mind back to the lesson, she let her hand roam quickly over the page to catch up on notes. Her other hand found its way into her pocket, clenching around the tiny note in her pocket as if it were something else, trapping an invisible warmth flush against her palm.


	4. Chapter 4

Anne found lately that while she used to want to constantly fill silence by talking, voicing the racing thought that so often filled her mind, now she didn't mind silence.

With so many days between them, it wasn't as if Anne ran out of things to say to Gilbert, but more as if she learned to appreciate the fact that she could enjoy the silence and save those things to say for later.

That silence usually fell when both were working, and now was no exception. Gilbert was studying, and Anne, unable to bear the unromantical thought of homework on a holiday, was knitting.

Her mind still raced, so much so that her hands still, pausing her knitting with the needles held in place. Not only was she still pretending she didn't know about Cole's surprise upcoming visit, as well as trying to completely forget about the note she'd taken off the take notice board. There was also a fight she'd gotten into with Marilla that morning.

The fact that it was a holiday from school, as Ms. Stacy had been called away on business, meant that Anne was looking forward to the day off and doing something else nice for Gilbert and Sebastian. She had gotten dressed early and headed downstairs to pack up enough ingredients to make a pie or something.

"Anne," Marilla walked in. "I was thinking perhaps today we might sew together. You're likely in need of a new slip or two, and I know you prefer to add your own frills."

"I can't help you today, I'm sorry, Marilla." Anne was rooting through the ingredients, trying to find the cinnamon. "I have to get to Gilbert's."

"Anne," Marilla sighed. "Don't you think you've been spending a bit too much time there?"

"No." Anne said firmly, trying to squash down rising anger. "Not at all. Gilbert needs my help."

"What about you, Anne? What about your own health? You'll run yourself ragged."

"I feel fine, Marilla." Anne said.

She'd even managed to rise early to do her chores, helping to feed the chickens and gather eggs, even doing a bit of pitching the hay. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a strand of hay poke from off her shoulder and into the loose locks of her hair. Marilla looked at it too.

"Well, you look shaggier than a dog in May. For heaven's sake, braid that hair up off your shoulders."

"No." Anne could not explain why she didn't want to. She was born knowing how to braid her hair, could do it with her eyes closed, and though she'd always done it herself and enjoyed its practicality, as braids didn't snag much when climbing trees, something about the sight of herself in them now made her sick.

"Then let me give it a trim—"

"No!"

The very thought of a blade going anywhere near her hair, the point scraping now her braid, sent the worst type of shivers down her spine. Her hands shook, the bag of ingredients slumping in her arms, causing the apples to spill out. The sound was hauntingly familiar.

"No, no, no –!"

"Anne! Anne!" Marilla grasped Anne by the shoulders. "Calm down!"

"I—" Anne took shaky breaths, eyes widening in the realization that the horrible things she was remembering weren't happening now. She quickly tried to wipe her tears and gather the now bruised apples from the floor.

"Anne, I think it's best you stay home today." Marilla said firmly.

The rage and injustice of it all coursed through her, but she dare not reply. She was going to leave today, and she knew exactly how. She shook slightly in nerves, but tried to stay calm as she quickly cleaned up the mess.

Anne listened behind her as Marilla pumped water into the sink and washed her hands. She then turned and strode past Anne as she turned around, drying her hands on her apron. Anne bit her lip nervously as Marilla went from the kitchen into the living room. Anne peered around, waiting for Marilla to start up stairs before she grabbed up her apples and knitting bag from the table and ran outside.

Marilla had only suggested that it would be best if Anne stayed home today, not that she should. It wasn't an order, and by remaining silent, Anne found her loophole. A hole through which she was now carrying bags in the direction of the Blythe house.

"Another curse of deepest fire red…" Anne moaned to herself as she walked deeper into the woods. She'd taken to talking aloud when she went through the forest. The channeling of her imaginative younger self greatly calmed her nerves.

There was almost fondness when she recalled another time this same path scared her. Her story of skeleton trees –now novice sounded to her well-worn in writer mind –had her running through here every day, desperate to keep from being closed in by trees at dark.

She got over that, though. But then again, the ghosts had only been her imagination. What she feared now was real.

"Perhaps if I wasn't cursed with hair that was as stick-straight as it was red, no one would think it shaggy just because I didn't _brush _it! Perhaps if I set it in curls like the other girls… only I've never done it on my own bef—"

Anne's foot struck a small stone and she tripped forward. She screamed as she thudded to the ground. She lay where she fell, having caught herself on elbows and knees, her face an inch from the forest floor with eyes wide.

Anne lay frozen in her crumpled heap, her heavy breathing growing panicked as the earthy scents stirred up those horrid memories. She felt the sodden soil beneath the covering of leaves soak through her stocking, still, Anne managed to hold it together.

She recalled fear of someone, not of strangers, but of friends. Fear of the boarders, but even back then she'd only been afraid for those in town, upset over the money lost and trouble caused. She'd never fear Nate or Dunlop were going to _kill _her.

She was flung into the memory, every breath of dust recalling the feeling of his weight on her. His blade on her body. His hands on her body.

Anne had spent days and days by Gilbert's side, had cried many tears for his plight, but she had never cried for herself. Never cried over her loss of innocent wonder, or of fear it may never come back.

Until now. Anne remained on the ground, shoulders shaking in sobs, her curtain of hair spilling over, shrouding her face. She cried until she couldn't, and then she lay still.

As much as she wanted to wallow in her sadness, she couldn't help but think that she was pressing her luck by staying here.

She stood up, brushing mud and leaves from her clothes as best she could and gathered up her bags. She then ran the rest of the way through, bursting through the line of trees out onto the clear road. She then slowed and let the walk to the Blythe house calm her. That worked better than she would have thought.

"Is it?"

Gilbert's voice rung somewhere in the back of Anne's mind. It wasn't until he spoke again that she snapped back to the present. Her knitting needles clinked together as she readjusted her yarn and blinked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"What?"

"Is it supposed to be a scarf, or are you just making really long socks?" Gilbert asked.

"It's a scarf." Anne nodded, looking down at what she was working on. "I have to make a new once, since I gave my old one to Ka'kwet."

"Your Mi'kmaq friend?"

"Yes. She's living it up at residential school. Meanwhile I'm—"

"Trapped in here with me." Gilbert smiled sheepishly. Anne shook her head.

"No, it's not that at all! Besides, I can actually get up if I wanted to."

Anne found herself looking over, wondering if he considered himself trapped, but as if on cue, Delphine started crying and Anne got up to hold her.

"Maybe she'd feel better if you moved her basket over here?" Gilbert nodded at the chair at his bedside.

Anne put Delphine in her basket and put it on the chair. With a view of the window, Delphine seemed to settle down. Anne then went downstairs to check on the food she was making. With her apples having been bruised, she decided to just cut her loses and make sauce with the good parts. It wasn't pie like she wanted, but at least now Delphine could have some too.

Anne walked back upstairs and stopped in Gilbert's doorway. Gilbert was back into one of his medical textbooks, seemingly not noticing her. Anne looked to Delphine at the bedside chair and noticed she was now without a place to sit.

The other day when Diana tagged along after school to see Gilbert, Anne had let her take that chair and she had sat on the very edge of the foot of Gilbert's bed. But would that be okay to do now?

She walked in slowly in and picked her scarf and knitting needles up off the floor by the chair and looked at Gilbert. He was marking something in the margins of the book with a pencil, seemingly engrossed. Anne peered over his lap and read something.

"What's blood transfusion?" She asked.

"Well, it's sort of a surgery…" Gilbert began. Once Anne figured he was efficiently distracted, she went and sat on the edge of the bed. "If someone looses a lot of blood, then they can take blood from someone else."

"Sounds…complicated." Anne tucked her bare stocking feet under her and turned to face him, her back resting against the footboard of the bed. She then put the scarf back in her lap and started working again.

"It kind of is." Gilbert said. "They have to put tubes directly into the veins, and there isn't always a chance it works. Two people's blood may not always be compatible."

"You been like a white person and a black person? I thought we were all the same inside?" Anne looked up.

"We are." He nodded. "They don't actually know what it is that makes people's blood different. There's research going on, but it's still a mystery. That's why I find it so utterly fascinating."

He seemed in better shape today, with no pain that Anne noticed, but something still compelled her to glance to his hand, and before she even knew what she was doing, Anne was taking his hand in hers.

"Just think, one day you'll be discovering the answers to all those mysteries. You'll be helping save lives every day."

Gilbert looked mildly surprised but then smiled at her. Anne smiled back before the overwhelming heat rushing to her face caused her to hastily pull her hand back and pick her knitting needles again.

She could practically feel Gilbert's gaze still on her, though she kept her eyes down on her work. After a moment, Gilbert went back to his book, and the comfortable silence fell over them.

After a snack of applesauce that Gilbert was much more susceptible to than he'd been for meals in the past, Anne was nearing the end of her scarf and was not favoring the design.

"I am beginning to detest this." Anne decided, holding up the scarf. Her eyes immediately seemed to hone in one every micro-hole due to her less-than-perfect skills, as well as the dark brown color.

"It doesn't look bad." Gilbert looked over the top of his book.

"Why does Marilla only ever have brown yarn? Why do all my clothes have to be brown? Who decided that clothes should match? I should be able to make one pink if I wanted."

"I like it." Gilbert shrugged, a half smile on his face before he went back to his book.

Anne had imagined, once her knitting skills were better, that she'd make a scarf twice as long as it should be. The idea of one trailing behind her like rose-colored hair always appealed to her, but now she just bent down and started to finish it off. It was long enough now for what she needed.

"What are you reading about now?" Anne asked.

"The smallpox vaccine." He said after a moment, turning the page.

Just as Anne predicted, Gilbert couldn't resist explaining further. He launched into a detailed explanation, full of big words that Anne found wonderfully scientific. He showed her charts and figures from the book that he was currently copying onto paper, and Anne couldn't help but watch his face as he spoke.

There was something about his eyes when he talked about medicine. It was a look she'd only seen once before, when they were dancing.

Ruby had once told Anne that Gilbert's eyes were full of romance, but Anne did not want to drive herself crazy by looking. However, she realized now she may have found it inadvertently.

Fighting the red flushing of her face once more, Anne turned her head to look out of the window. The sun was just starting to set, and though this was a tad earlier than Anne would normally leave, she believed she'd already pushed her luck with Marilla today by leaving in the first place.

"I should get ready to go. I have some chores today." Anne said as she began to pack her things. She would lament to Gilbert about Marilla's rules, but she did not want him to think he was the cause of her disobedience, even though he was.

"Thanks for coming today. It's a lot less boring with you around." Gilbert smiled at her.

Anne didn't expect it as he reached out and touched her wrist. Anne paused from where she'd been standing at the bedside, giving a goodbye look to Delphine.

Anne then reached into her bag and took out the finished scarf before leaning over him and wrapping it around his neck. Something compelled her to take extra care to make sure her hands brushed against his neck.

She was fairly certain this was her first time seeing Gilbert Blythe blush. She took in the color in his face as well as his look of surprised, followed by widening smile.

"Anne—" He reached up to the touch the scarf as she picked her bag back up.

"It's fine, really. I have plenty of time to make another one. Besides, I really need the practice." She turned away from him to face the door, desperately trying to bite back her own blushing smile. "See you later."

Anne then hurried down the hall and downstairs where she laced up her boots and grabbed her hat. She waved to Sebastian in the garden as she crossed to the main road.

Like before, Anne was lost in thought as she walked, but unlike the negative spiral from before, she crossed into the trees thinking of only a few things— Gilbert's smile, the warmth in his eyes, and of course, how cross Marilla would be when she got back home.

She stepped out of the line of trees and onto the main road and only just then thought to look over her shoulder, but she didn't see anything.

She made sure to wave to Jerry, despite her own impending doom as she crossed the yard. She took a deep breath, hat pulled from her head, and stepped inside. She hung her hat on the rack and dropped her bag on the table just as Marilla walked into the kitchen.

"Anne—"

"I know, Marilla." Anne breathed nervously. "I shouldn't have disobeyed you and I am truly remorseful, but I only went to Gilbert's—"

"Which is precisely why I didn't sent Matthew after you. I knew where you'd gone, and that you'd be back. And now that you are,"

"Oh, Marilla." Anne prepared for a sad spiel. "If you are going to punish me and confide me to the farm, I would pray that you find it in your heart to wait until Gilbert is well, for keeping us apart will have grave repercussions on his recovery—"

"Anne," Marilla's voice was softer now, and something about her slight smile sent that rush of heat back over her face. "Sit down, please."

Anne obeyed, sitting at the counter and putting her knitting bag on the bench beside her. A moment later, Marilla came up behind her and put a brush to her hair.

Anne gasped softly, flinching forward before stopping. She forced her eyes open, reminding herself this was Marilla, and not someone who would hurt her.

Marilla brushed Anne's hair out, clearing it of tangles and whatever else dust and hay was in it. When that was done, she pulled it back. Anne expected braids, but to her surprise, Marilla pinned it back in an elegant bun before tying on a ribbon.

"There, that's finally out of the way. Now, please set the table." Marilla patted Anne's shoulders and went to check on dinner.

Anne reached up to touch her hair in awe, fingers brushing the ribbon. She wasn't yet seventeen, so was wearing her hair up even alright?

"Marilla," Anne turned around, unable to hold back her smile.

"Now, Anne. Supper is almost ready." Marilla seemed to be doing the same.

"Yes." Anne jumped up and went to fetch the dishes.

"I can't see anything!" Minnie May whined, pushing between Anne and Diana on the platform.

"There's nothing to see yet, Minnie May." Diana said impatiently, swatting her sister's hand from tugging at her skirt. "The train hasn't arrived yet."

Anne ignored Minnie May, reaching up once more to touch the ribbon in her hair. Marilla had done it up again that morning before school, much to Anne's surprise, and Anne herself had touched it up in preparation for meeting the Charlottetown train, and Anne was still grinning inwardly at how mature she felt she looked when she examined her reflection.

"Ah, this will be it, then." Mr. Barry put his pocket watch back in his pocket as Anne stood on her tip toes and craned her neck to see the steam in the distance and listen for the whistle.

"Anne?" Ruby approached from further down the platform and smiled at her and Diana. "I almost didn't recognize you with your hair up. What are you doing here?"

Anne and Diana looked at each other. If Ruby saw Cole get off the train with Aunt Jo, Anne was uncertain on how she'd get Ruby not to spread it around. She'd only just told Diana about Cole last night, and that was so they could come up with the perfect excuse to tell Diana's parents about why another guest would be staying with them, and who he was.

"M-My Aunt's coming." Diana said quickly, as the silence had begun to stretch on.

"Oh. Well, we're just seeing my sister and her husband off. " Ruby looked back at another blonde girl that seemed several years older than them. She had her arm linked with a man's. "Look what my sister, Susan, gave me."

Ruby opened her hand to show them a silver sixpence coin. Anne knew one was lucky tradition when being wed, and seeing as Ruby only ever had one thing on her mind, Anne could only smile happily for her.

The train whistled and slowed to a halt on the platform. Minnie May jumped up and down excitedly, narrowing avoiding treading on Anne's toes.

Josephine stepped off the train, a hand to her hat to keep the wind from carrying it off. She beamed when she saw them, and Minnie May ran over.

"Who are you supposed to be!?" Minnie May stopped in her tracks and looked up at the person who stepped out after her.

"He's, um—" Diana was obviously forgetting her lines.

"Cole?" Ruby asked, her eyes widening slightly.

Josephine also seemed unprepared for this scenario. Cole was stuck in shock at seeing Ruby, so Anne took it all upon herself.

"That's just Aunt Jo's butler!" Anne announced, feeling the crowd's eyes on her. Luckily, she spoke well under pressure. "He's obviously just here to carry Aunt Jo's things."

"Ah, yes, I am." Cole took one of the bags from Aunt Jo's arm. "Let me get that, Ma'am."

"I shall think so!" Josephine seemed to be biting back a smirk. "And this one as well."

Cole seemed to buckle under the weight of the second bag she handed him, and the look he was giving her was causing Anne to use all her strength not to laugh. Cole caught her eye and seemed a moment away from laughing as well.

"Whatever you say, Lady." He rolled his eyes.

Diana beckoned for him to follow her to the carriage so he could put their things in. Anne caught Ruby's eye and shook her head slightly. After a moment, Ruby seemed to understand and nodded before going to say goodbye to her sister.

"I say, what happened to the other one?" Mr. Barry asked Josephine in a low voice.

"Rollings is quite on in years. I thought it best to bring a younger one who wouldn't keel over from the journey." She nodded.

Mr. Barry nodded as Minnie May ran to Josephine. Josephine seemed delighted to take the little girl's hand, but Minnie May just frowned.

"Aunt Jo, how come we didn't go to visit you and stay in your big house? Why'd you come here?" She asked.

"Well, dear, I thought this country air would do me some good. I'm not getting any younger either, you know." She looked over Minnie May's head at Anne and smiled.

"Well, let's be off, shall we?" Mr. Barry said. "Eliza's got dinner waiting."

"Just a second." Anne turned away as Mr. Barry helped Josephine and went back to where Ruby had just watched her sister board. "Ruby, thank you for your silence. Cole doesn't want to bring too much attention to himself."

"I understand. Or, I think I could understand, if I ran away as he did."

"Yes, well, we're all going to see Gilbert tomorrow, and I know you haven't been yet…" Anne began.

"Oh, no, Anne! Y-You know I couldn't! Not if he looks like death!"

"He does not look like death!" Anne assured her, feeling almost offense at the notion. "And you don't have to if you don't want. I just think he'd like to see you, is all."

"He'd like to see me?" Ruby practically squeaked. "You really think so?"

"Sure." Anne nodded. "Just meet us by the road tomorrow!"

Anne got into the Barry's car, squashed between Diana and Minnie May once more, and listened to Josephine telling of the art she'd recently purchased. Anne tried to picture the painting in her head as she spoke.

"Beautiful fields like you wouldn't believe." She sighed. "And to think, he'd never even done watercolors before."

"Who's this, then?" Mr. Barry glanced up from reading the newspaper he'd unfolded from beside his seat.

"He's an unknown now."Josephine smirked. "But not for long, I think."

Anne caught Cole's eye and smiled, knowing he was the true artist Josephine was enamored enough with to let his paintings grace her front parlor.

After a dinner at the Barry's, one where Anne had to remember things such as napkin in her lap and ankles crossed, she was forced to run back to Green Gables and finish her homework before bed.

The next morning Anne did her chores, tied up her own hair up and went to Diana's. If she'd had it her way, she would have just slept over, but she was already slacking in chores at home.

Josephine was having brunch and tea with Mrs. Barry when Anne let herself in. Anne waved at her and walked upstairs to Diana's room.

"They stitched him in the side." Cole was sitting at Diana's desk. "Can he sit up?"

"Sort of." Diana's feet dangled over the edge of the bed. "But he can't get out of bed or walk around."

"So, Anne literally does everything for him?" Cole grinned her way as Anne came through the door.

"Very funny." Anne rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "But at least I'm not the butler boy."

"Yes." Diana smiled, taking Anne's side. "Maybe you should go downstairs and see if Aunt Jo needs anything."

"You two came up with that story." Cole glanced at Anne again. "Well, I know you did, Anne. It has your creative mind and cruel spirit."

"Right, so you know I can do a lot worse if I wanted to, so truce. Let's go."

Anne tried to think no more of Cole's teasing as she, Cole, and Diana started downstairs. They were nearly out the door when Minnie May began to follow.

"Where are you going? I wanna go too." She said.

"No, Minnie May, you can't." Diana said firmly. "Go back to Mother."

"I wanna—" Her whine was cut short as Josephine called from the parlor.

"Minnie May, I forgot to mention that I brought you a present. Come here and see what it is." She said. Minnie May ran back into the house and Anne and Diana shot Josephine and grateful look before leaving.

Ruby's arrival on the walk was met with her voicing her worry about Gilbert's condition. Anne decided not to reiterate herself and was glad when the conversation steered towards Ruby and Cole catching up as they walked into the woods.

"Wait, are you sure this is safe?" Ruby stopped in her tracks. "What if the crazy man is hiding out here! My mother says I'm not to come this way!"

"It's fine, Ruby." Diana said, looking at Anne. "I'm sure that man is gone. Right, Anne?"

"Right." Anne did not admit her own heart still pounded when she came through here.

"Maybe we should go another way? Stay on the road?" She asked in a squeak.

"Won't that take twice as long?" Cole asked. "Don't worry—"

"Well, I'm going back!" Ruby began to walk backwards, her eyes still on them.

"Then you'll be going through the woods alone." Anne pointed out.

Ruby seemed to be debating it all in her head, before the sound of crackling twigs nearby from a rabbit caused her to run back to the group and wrap her arms around Cole's arm.

"You'll be alright." Cole smiled and Ruby nodded, putting on a brave face. "We came through here all the time before, remember?"

"Come on, I want to get there before lunchtime." Anne picked up the pace, not voicing that the reason she wanted to be there then was so that she could make something for Gilbert if he wanted. She didn't mind, and that was less for Sebastian to have to worry about.

They walked, their steps trampling through underbrush and keeping forest creatures at bay. Anne remained brave, an easy feat with the chatter of friends with her on her walk, until they finally emerged on the road and crossed to Gilbert's house.

Anne let herself in without knocking and watched as Sebastian seemed to do double take at the crowd Anne had brought in. He was sat at the table with Delphine, sipping coffee. Anne could hear Ruby gasp softly at the sight of the baby.

"Is Gilbert up?" Anne asked hopefully.

Finally, she led her friends upstairs to see him. As usual, his door was propped open and the curtains were parted to let in the light. Gilbert was sitting up in bed reading a book.

Anne instantly took notice of the scarf still around his neck over his nightshirt. Gilbert looked up at them, eyes widening before breaking into a smile.

"Hello everyone." He chuckled in surprise before storing the pencil he'd been noting with behind his ear the way Anne loved. "I didn't expect to see all of you so soon or…at all. Cole, it's been ages. Please don't tell me you came from Charlottetown just for me."

"I think visiting can be therapeutic in some way. As well as giving me the chance to thank someone who helped me when I was hurt." Cole smiled and took a folder out of his satchel. He opened it and handed Gilbert a paper.

Anne had no qualms with moving closer to peer over his shoulder at the picture of a bouquet of flowers. She smiled as she realized her earlier suspicions were correct.

"Watercolors." She breathed.

"You did this?" Gilbert closed his book in order to take the picture in both hands. "It's amazing!"

"I actually did that one last minute." Cole reached again into his satchel and took something out, wincing. "Because my original gift broke."

Anne looked to see him holding a clay coffee mug, hand painted in white and blue. The handle was missing, and based on the soft clink, had been placed inside.

"Oh, that's spectacular!" Diana grinned, eyeing it as Cole handed it to Gilbert.

"I bet we can fix it." Gilbert took the broken handle out and examined it.

"Yes, there has to be glue or something around here." Anne nodded.

She then saw some sort of look pass between Diana and Cole, and was about to ask what they were smirking about, when she noticed Ruby was still standing in the doorway.

"Ruby?" Anne looked over.

"Are you sure my visiting won't…infect you with foreign germs?" Ruby asked Gilbert nervously, her face pale.

"Um…I'm sure." Gilbert seemed to smile in amusement at her. "I'm quite along on the road to recovery."

"You mean you don't feel sick? Pain?" She stepped tentatively into the room.

Anne found herself quiet, now watching Gilbert from the corner of her eye for any signs of sickness or pain that she hadn't picked up on. There was that slight medicated smell from him, but nothing that would indicate infection. She found herself eyeing his hand laying on top of the sheets.

"No, not at all." Gilbert assured her.

"Then why are you dressed like you're sick? The scarf?" Ruby seemed to be working herself up into believing his death, and in that moment, Anne felt her heart start to pound.

Color rushed to her face as she looked at Gilbert. He too seemed to be blushing as he reached up and tugged off the scarf, winding it quickly into a neat fold and placing it beside him on the bed.

"Just cold." He mumbled before glancing at Anne. Their eyes locked. "And Anne made it for me, is all."

Anne wasn't prepared for so many eyes to turn on her at once. She inwardly cursed her easy-blushing nature and tried to keep her heart from pounding even harder than it was.

"_Alright, _well," Anne started for the door. "I'm gonna get ready for lunch."

As Anne walked back downstairs, she found that if she were being truly honest with herself, she was rather pleased Gilbert mentioned she'd made the scarf for him. In fact, maybe she'd been irrationally upset if he hadn't.

After Diana joined her to help with tea and sandwiches, Anne took a platter upstairs. They all sat around, eating and reminiscing about their favorite and least favorite memories of their school days. Unsurprising, all of their least favorites involved Mr. Phillips in some way.

Cole told everyone about art school, and Ruby seemed overly enamored at the idea of a school where no one had to write essays or worry about spelling.

Anne, who'd been sitting with her back against the bed so Diana could have the chair, found herself watching Gilbert's hand again. Maybe there was a slight worry of his pain flaring up again, or just a recollection of the ease in which she'd once held it.

But that was when they were alone. There was no way she could get away with that now, not in front of everyone. Even as she forced herself to pay rapt attention to Diana's story, it was almost as if she could feel his eyes on her. She reached to the back of her neck and let her fingers brush her hair ribbon and smiled.

As it grew dark, Anne and the others were forced to head home, as Ruby was firm on her curfew as well as the fact that she couldn't walk the woods alone.

Anne gave Gilbert one last look over her shoulder as she left, but when he looked over, she pretended to have been looking at Cole's painting now tacked up on the wall.

On the walk home through the brush, conversation of Gilbert's condition faded as Ruby was silent, until she wasn't.

"He seemed different." Ruby said suddenly.

"Different how?" Diana asked.

"He seemed alright to me." Cole said. "The same as I remember, I mean. He was never a brute, and he helped me when my wrist broke, remember?"

"Oh, no! I don't mean anything bad!" Ruby assured them, their feet now crunching through underbrush. Anne was thankful it was dark enough now that she could roll her eyes discreetly in preparation for one of Ruby's spiels about how amazing Gilbert was. Strange how they never bothered her before. "I just mean…different. I'm not sure what it is…but I don't think I'm in love with Gilbert anymore."

"You're saying you don't have a crush on Gilbert anymore?" Diana gasped. "Is this because of his injury? Or, or because you're always walking with Moody now?"

"I don't know." Ruby seemed to sigh in exasperation. "I just don't! I can barely understand the workings of my mind on my own, so I cannot expect you to understand either. Just accept it, alright. I don't love Gilbert anymore."

"Fascinating." Cole said flatly.

Anne couldn't help but start laughing, followed by Diana and Ruby, and finally Cole. Their laughter seemed to shake the skeleton trees of the forest, echoing until they all stepped out of the woods and onto the road.

That night, as Anne laid in Diana's bed beside her, Marilla having given in on letting Anne sleepover, she found herself listening hard to see that Diana had fallen asleep.

"Cole?" Anne whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Now I am." Cole whispered from his blanket pallet by the door.

Anne slowly slipped from Diana's bed and dragged a blanket to lay down on the floor beside him. She then grabbed the oil lamp from the desk and turned it on to the dimmest setting, enough to see his face.

"Would you say your fantastic skills in art inhibit your ability to write compelling letters?" She asked.

"What?" Cole seemed to hold back a yawn. "Are you saying my letters don't compel you?"

"No." Anne sighed. "I just mean…your art speaks amazing volumes. So, does the fact that my…talent lies in writing mean that I could never draw like you?"

"No, of course not." Cole rolled onto his side to face her. "But why the sudden interest?"

"I think maybe…if I could draw something, something to explain something, then I wouldn't need to use words." Anne could feel her heart pound.

"But why can't you use your words, if you're so good at them?" Cole seemed to be smirking.

"Because I can't find the right ones." Anne now rolled onto her back to avoid looking at him. She absentmindedly pulled at the ribbon tied around her wrist, her loose hair fanning out behind her. "What if I say something wrong? I always manage to put my foot it in with him…"

"You seem to be doing alright so far." Cole assured her before yawning. "He risked his life for you, so now you spend all hour of the day caring for the hero you're indebted to. Sounds a lot like those stories you used to write."

"Oh, that just proves you know nothing of my compelling story formula!" Anne crossed her arms, listening to Cole chuckle in the darkness before growing quiet.

"Anne, if I ever knew what to say to boys, you'd be the first I'd tell."

They stayed silently, Anne reflecting a while longer, until she heard Cole start to breath deeply in sleep. Anne reached over and turned off the lamp before putting it on the desk and climbing back into bed with Diana.

"Words…words… why must you fail me so? Haven't I been loyal?"

Anne stared sleepily at the ceiling, mind reverting back to an old game. She was in a boat, adrift, just like Elaine. Well, if that were true, then Cole was overboard. And Diana was her sole survivor on their journey for land.

As she fell asleep, she realized that since she had been sitting on Gilbert's bed with him the past few days, he had been playing that role too. Anne smiled at the thought and fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Anne opened the door to the master bedroom of the Blythe house and peered inside. Gilbert had told her what Mary's son had done, but it seemed he did a good job of cleaning the mess up. It now just seemed like a bare bedroom with no trinkets to allude to the previous owner's personality.

Anne couldn't help but think that was one of the most tragical things ever as she padded across the floor and crouched at the foot of the bed. As Gilbert had instructed, Anne pushed the trunk out of the way and pressed her hands down to the floor to feel for the loose board.

It was something she always dreamed of –having her own secret nook in her room to hide her favorite treasures, but Marilla would have her hide if she ever found Anne prying up floorboards.

She was just beginning to think it had been nailed down, when she felt it wiggle. She excitedly pried off the board and smiled when she reached down and felt for the box.

She pulled up the lockbox and put the board and trunk back into place before carrying the heavy wooden box back to Gilbert's room.

"Thank God." Gilbert breathed in relief when he saw Anne holding it.

Anne knew he'd been worried Elijah had taken it, anticipating the contents to be of monetary value, but Anne was just as relieved as he was to see it was safe, for she was interested in the true sentimental value.

"Oh, I think it's locked." Anne realized, sitting at the foot of the bed, the box in her lap. She pried at the lid, sighing at the sight of the tiny golden latch. "Do you know where the key is?"

"No idea." Gilbert sighed, sitting up with minimal effort. "I honestly didn't remember it locked."

Anne glanced up at his face, knowing she wouldn't stand for even the smidge of disappointment crossing his features. Earlier it had just been something he'd mentioned –the idea that there might be one last case of his father's things still safe.

But Anne liked to believe she knew him well enough now to know he'd been holding onto that hope more than he was letting on, and she wasn't going to let a simple lock ruin it.

"We can just… improvise." Anne reached back to bun in her hair and felt beside the ribbon for a hair pin. She pulled it out, dislodging locks of red, and jabbed the end into the lock.

Gilbert watched, eyes wide with amazement, as Anne tried to recall how to do this, all the while with more of her hair falling in her face.

Anne breathed steadily, wiggling the pin back and forth in the tiny amount of allotted room when –click. The lock popped open.

"Ta-dah!" Anne smiled and opened the box.

"Amazing." Gilbert breathed, eyes going from the box up to Anne.

Anne was unable to hold back her own smile, feeling warmth spread to her face. It kept happening, moments like these where she felt as if the tiny embers in her heart were growing to a full fire. She was sure the flame was at least showing in the burn on her face as she took something out of the box.

"Well, it was a useful skill back at one of the homes." Anne scanned the front cover of a well-worn leather book. "Woman used to lock up the study where all the good books were, so I'd break in after dark."

"I'm not judging. I'm impressed. Yet again on the receiving end of your resourcefulness." Gilbert reached for his tea mug and raised it in a mock toast. Anne smiled again at the fact that he was using Cole's mug that Anne had carefully glued back together days prior.

"Your father wrote so tiny…" Anne was peering inside the book, where she could now see it was an atlas of some kind. There were ink notes in the margins, but they'd been smudged in time. "But he said something about…carcass?"

"Mm? Let me see?" Gilbert swallowed his tea and took the atlas from Anne before reading the note and chuckling. "No, that's Caracas. In Venezuela. He wanted to go there."

"Oh." Anne let Gilbert flip through the rest of the maps while she dug through more of the box.

There was a small cloth bag containing several marbles as well as American coin currency. A deck of very worn cards was held together by a length of twine and Gilbert mentioned he could show Anne how to play real poker.

"Your father must have been so well travelled and worldly." Anne sighed wistfully as she found letters with military seals at the bottom. "And to think he saved so many things that others might not find valuable, why that's the kind of person I want to be."

"He moved around a lot. He was in service for a while." Gilbert nodded. "Travelling…that was Dad's favorite thing in the world. He was stationed in Alberta…and then I was born, and we came back."

"You must miss him." Anne put down the American coin she'd been examining and took his hand. Though the act was familiar now, it still set a rush of sparking embers through her.

"A lot." Gilbert admitted, a sad smile pulling at his lips. He turned his head, watching out the window for a while. "He loved going on the train. It didn't matter if it was slow or late. Towards the end… it's all he wanted to do. I think it reminded him of when he was young."

"Well, I think you got his spirit, in that sense." Anne squeezed his hand before holding them over the top of the box. "You went out and saw the world, all those fascinating places, and then you came home."

"Truthfully, it had a lot of negative aspects. The work was hard and the people were mean. But off the ship." He turned back to look at her and she smiled. "That was amazing. All those people and places were so different from Avonlea. And Trinidad was the best one, the food was—" He sighed. "I wish you could've seen it."

"Me too." Anne said. Feeling his eyes curiously on her again, Anne quickly looked away and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"I wish he were here, my father. There's so much I wanna ask him now…that I never even thought of before. Questions I didn't even know to ask."

"I know what you mean. I never knew my parents at all, but I sometimes wonder the kind of advice they give. If it'd be anything like the sorts of things Marilla and Matthew say –or don't say." She laughed and shook her head.

"At least I had my father to tell me about my mother." Gilbert said.

"No." Anne's gaze snapped to him. "I didn't mean to say my situation was worse, or that I'm more tragic—"

"I know you weren't, Anne." He smiled, brows knitted together, and Anne felt the knot in her heart loosen. "But you're still allowed to feel what you feel. There's a difference between overshadowing and empathizing."

Anne knew they were both remembering the awful thing she'd said just after his father died. That he was luckier than she was. Looking back at that now, it was obvious why she said it. More obvious than the fact that she felt it true –back then, she didn't know how to care about someone.

Not to say she lived a selfish life before, but truly that she lived a loveless one. When no one cared for her, she did not form bonds in turn. Without a friend, Anne had not yet learned what to say when someone she cared about what on the end of pain for once.

While ashamed of all she did not know, she was also glad to recall it, to know just how much real love and friendship had changed her.

He asked her again about her prowess in lock-picking and Anne smirked, brushing her hair back again before explaining. It was a mix of nostalgia and embarrassment to recall the strange escapisms she used in those houses, but Gilbert seemed to understand.

He even pitched in his own stories, rare treats to Anne, saying that if she were to pull back his writing desk and look along the floor molding, she'd find where he'd badly carved his own name into the wall at age eight with a pocket knife.

His story, though lacking maternal warmth, only began resemble her own when he mentioned the first time his father got sick. He had to close his pocket knife and stop being a child. Everything then was how to get him to a strong future.

Even now, with Gilbert in bed, Anne wondered if he'd even relaxed once in these weeks. He seemed to just spend his time studying. It was like he'd forgotten how to have fun.

Hiding away to read, write, and then act out her own stories were all things Diana, Cole, and even Ruby knew, and while Gilbert's response of empathetic, almost amused smiles, were familiar as well, Anne couldn't help but feel he didn't truly relate.

But she liked his laugh, his smile. And then there was a memory.

A flicker of her own reflection, younger, in her mind. She found herself smirking, going back to rustling through trinkets in the box while he flipped through an atlas.

"And then there was Katie Maurice…" She didn't even think how it'd sound, how it was just a tad much, even compared to her other adventures before Green Gables.

"Who?" Gilbert looked up.

"She was my— friend." Anne continued cautiously, finding herself watching his face for signs of judgment. "When I lived with the Thomases. She was the only one who understood my plights… the only girl I'd ever known my own age. But… she wasn't real."

"What?"

"She was just my reflection, in the glass of the locked bookcase door. But I named her and talked to her just the same as if she were real. She was so deeply understanding of the trials of being red-haired. Isn't—" Anne looked away now, face burning and wishing she had never brought it up. "Isn't that the stupidest thing you'd ever heard?"

"No. I don't think it's stupid at all." Gilbert sat up further now, causing Anne to look back now with the same worry she had every time he did that, though he swore it didn't hurt anymore. "If it helped you get through a bad time, and it was fun for you, then that's not stupid."

Cole had said the same thing, helped her remember how her imagination had saved hers and linked her to those she saw as kindred. But something about talking to herself just always felt that it toed the line, and she wasn't proud of Katie the way she was of Cordelia.

"When I was leaving their house… I said goodbye to Katie." Anne told him, a smile finally pulling at her lips. "I knew she was just me, that I could see her any old time I pleased if I looked in the mirror, but I didn't want to take her with me. I didn't want to need her in the next house. I wanted the next house to be home. Not a place I'd need to invent my own friends."

"Green Gables was that for you…"

"Yes. Eventually. Though, my perfect idea of home…and love was not how it turned out to be in reality. Still, no matter how shaky life here can get, I've never needed Katie, and that's pretty perfect to me." Anne chuckled before sighing. "Wow. I can't believe I just told you all of that. I… I can't remember if I've ever told anyone about Katie before."

"Well, I'm very glad you shared that with me." Gilbert smiled at her and Anne could see the color tinging his own face from this close, with only the open box and small piles of treasure between them.

She'd really expected some good-natured snark. What she hadn't expected, the last thing she'd dared to hope for was Gilbert slowly reaching up to tuck the lock of loose hair behind her ear.

Anne felt her heart start pounding impossibly harder. It was as if all the warmth in her body was rushing to her face. It was that same confusing feeling all those weeks ago when they first danced together.

Only she was truly starting to realize she wasn't exactly confused anymore.

His eyes… Anne forced herself to look him in the eye just as the knuckles of his fingers brushed her cheek. There was so much romance there, unmistakable. She wondered how she never saw it before.

"It just… comes loose often, because I've been wearing a new style." Anne had to practically force the words. It was so strange to be unable to find words, but she could not hate it as it was accompanied by these feelings.

"I've noticed. It doesn't have anything to with me, does it?" He smiled slightly.

"No, but I—"

It can be, if you like it. That was what Anne wanted to say, had she not been interrupted. And how proud she was of herself for finding words, too.

The footsteps coming off the stairs and down the hall had Gilbert pulling his hand back from her face and leaning back against the pillows once more. Anne's heart sunk as she turned, annoyed, to look over her shoulder at Sebastian.

"Anne, Matthew's here for you." Sebastian wore a neutral expression, sporting dirt stains and sweat. He must have been outside working. If he suspected anything had been happening between them, he didn't show it. He just took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

"Right. Thanks Bash, I'll be right down." Anne glanced out the window. It must only be just past noon, but Anne did recall Matthew saying they were riding to the store today. She couldn't remember why, though. She hadn't been listening as well as she should have been. Really, she had been thinking about something else.

Anne turned back towards Gilbert, her smile dropping apologetically. He gave her his own smile of sympathy and gratitude as Anne sighed.

"Well, I should get ready to go." She began putting all of the trinket back into the box and Gilbert sat up to help, constantly reaching for the same ones as hers so their hands touched. It was almost funny, though she managed not to laugh.

"You know I always appreciate you coming around, Anne." Gilbert said.

"Sure you just don't appreciate my cooking?" She asked with a smirk.

"That too." He admitted and this time, Anne did laugh. She was just about to close the box when her hand brushed something round at the bottom.

"What—?" Anne thought it was a marble at first, but it was too large. She pulled out a long pin with a pearlescent jewel at the end.

"A hatpin." Gilbert blinked. "I'm not sure why my dad had that in there."

"It's so lovely." Anne breathed, holding the pin and slowly turning it to examine the jewel from all angles. Even as a child decorating her hats with real flowers, she always longed for such an ornate item like sociable women always had. "Oh, I've always wanted one."

She remembered Matthew waiting and moved to put the pin back in the box, when Gilbert's hand rested over hers, stopping.

"Take it." Gilbert said.

"What?" Anne blinked. "Gilbert, I can't—"

"Yes, please take it. A trade, fair and square." He nodded towards the chair at his bedside that Anne no longer used. The scarf she'd made him was draped over the back. "Everything of my father's is mine now, and I'm giving it to you. Besides Anne, what am I supposed to do with a woman's hatpin?"

So Anne finally made her way outside, the pin stuck through the bun in her hair. The perfect mix of decorative and rebelling against its proper use. Of course, Matthew didn't seem to notice it.

After shopping and helping Matthew carry bags of feed into the barn, Anne went upstairs, stepping out of muddy boots—which she should have done on the porch—and shedding out of a hay-covered pinafore.

She then took the pin out of pocket where she'd kept it from getting lost. She stood at her desk and held the pin under the lamp, turning it to watch the light reflect off the jewel. There was a knock on the bedroom door and Anne quickly dropped the pin into a drawer as it opened.

"What are you looking at?" Diana asked.

"Nothing." Anne said quickly, and then after a second, she opened the drawer and took it out. "Just this."

"Wow, where'd you get that? In town today?"

"No…Gilbert gave it to me. I think it was his mother's."

"Gilbert gave you something like that!" She asked in awe.

"Well, it's because I've been helping him all this time. To say thanks." Anne put it back in the drawer.

"Is that really it?" She smiled and Anne felt her face grow warm again.

"Is that what you came here to ask me?" She retorted, smiling in spite of her racing heart.

Anne had been debating over it all for a while now. That same question swirling in her mind. What was it that she felt, and did he feel it too? She knew he felt it too. But…again, what was it?

"No. But I did come here to talk to you about something." Diana walked in and sat on Anne's bed.

"What is it?" Anne watched her friend's face. Her eyes as if in deep thought. Anne got up and sat on the bed beside her.

"It's Aunt Josephine. Before she left last week, she told me I should take the Queens entrance exam." Diana said.

"Oh, Diana, you should!" Anne nodded. "I'd love for you to come with college with me!"

"But what about Paris?" Diana laid back, her raven hair spilling out onto the bed. "My mother…"

"Is that really what you want, though? To be finished and married off? You can meet a smart and interesting man in college too, you know."

"Or in Avonlea…" Diana cut her eyes back over to Anne with a smirk.

"Enough!"Anne grabbed her pillow and whacked Diana in the stomach. Diana laughed before sighing.

"I heard my mother scolding Minnie May this morning." Her voice went serious again. Anne waited, figuring there was more. Mrs. Barry as always scolding Minnie May, so nothing was new here. "She said… why can't you be more like your sister, Minnie May. But neither of them knows that I hate who I am at home. I lie all the time… I don't wanna lie anymore!"

"Oh, you can absolutely change, Diana! You can be a college girl, and I'll help you! You can borrow some of my materials!" Anne went to her desk and fished out a book. Taking her and Gilbert's homework from in between the pages, before handing it over.

"Thank you Anne. I mean, I probably won't pass. I haven't been prepping with the rest of the class."

"You're just as smart as any one of us. You can do it Diana."

They hugged, Anne squeezing Diana tight before they touched their lockets together. Though this time, perhaps it was not with fear they'd be separated. When Diana was gone, Anne took the pin out again.

The next afternoon, Anne crossed into the woods on her walk to Gilbert's after school, her usual routine of talking to herself picking up as she didn't have Diana to converse with. Though she now wanted to take the exams, she couldn't risk actually going to the study sessions.

"What if love…ruins things between us?" Anne sighed. "No. I won't let it. But…what if that isn't what he feels at all? What if he doesn't need me anymore once his stitches are out? I suppose…things going back to exactly how they were before wouldn't be so bad…"

Yes it would. She liked cooking. Loved it, really. It was one of the few domestic tasks she did love. And she liked doing it for Gilbert. And then there was their homework sessions. Soon, they'd be done with the tests and they'd have no reason for that anymore.

They'd just be friends.

She wanted that ruined. She couldn't go back to the mundanity of their friendship after basking in the heart-stopping moment of romance in his eyes.

Anne took the pin down from where she'd stuck it in wilting flowers of her hat and held it out so that the jewel caught the gaps of sunlight through the trees.

"What should I do?" She asked it.

Suddenly, Anne stopped in her tracks. There was a slight sound from further up head. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she rose to her tip toes, ready to sprint.

She listened closer, hugging her books and papers close to her chest. Anne blinked, realizing the sound was someone else talking to themselves. Someone wailing and crying to themselves, too.

A few weeks ago, Anne would have rather died than step off the path into the trees, but now she dared. Felt braver. Her fist curled around the hatpin as she walked towards the noise.

"…Josie?"

Josie sat on a fallen tree log, her face in her hands. Her books and school things were in a heap on the grass below and she looked up as Anne walked over.

"Go away!" Josie turned away, tears running down her face.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I said, go away! God, Anne, just leave me alone!" Josie scooped up her things from the ground and ran off.

"Josie!"

Anne felt torn. She was due at Gilbert's very soon, and so after a moment, she walked in that direction, back towards the path.

It was better this way, Anne told herself. She doesn't want to see you. She'd never exactly been your friend. Just mind your own—

Nope. Anne cast a look back towards Gilbert's before continuing on towards Josie's house. She'd just be a little while. Just to check on her, that's all.

Anne let her feet drag just a tad, giving Josie the time to clean herself up at home before she got there. Anne finally arrived and knocked on the door. She'd only been here once or twice with the other girls from her class. Never alone.

"Yes? Can I help you?" A young housekeeper answered the door.

"Um. I'm looking for Josie. Is she home from school yet?" Anne asked.

"Who may I ask is calling?"

"A…friend."

Anne stepped into the foyer and waited. The maid came back with Josie in tow. Josie's cheeks were pink as if she'd just finished scrubbing off her tears. Her arms were crossed and her eyes narrow.

"What do you want, Anne?" Josie asked coolly, obviously trying to make it seem as if they'd not just seen one another. As if Josie hadn't been crying.

"Um." Anne glanced at the housekeeper again. As much as she wanted to help, Anne knew she couldn't mention her true motives until they were alone. "It's about the, um…schoolwork? I need your help, since you're so smart."

Josie rolled her eyes and grabbed Anne's arm. Anne gasped as Josie pulled her upstairs, her feet stomping angrily on each step, her grip hard and threatening to yank Anne's arm from her body.

They entered a painted bedroom and Josie slammed the door shut. Anne held her sore arm as Josie grabbed a vanity chair and shoved it so it wedged it under the doorknob before finally turning to glare at her.

"You're lucky my mother didn't see you. She would have never let you inside." Josie growled.

"Why?" Anne blinked, stunned. This was not the broken sad girl Anne had seen less than an hour ago. There wasn't a trace of that.

"Because she hates you." Josie shrugged. "She says you have no business walking around like that, and Marilla Cuthbert should be ashamed of herself for letting you."

"Letting me what…exactly?" Anne asked, taken aback.

"Letting you wear your hair up like that!" Josie said. "You aren't old enough, and it makes you look like you're trying too hard. Which, I feel like you never need to. People just like you, Anne. You don't have to try."

"Not everyone." Anne looked to the side and saw herself in Josie's mirror.

Her hair was not some elaborate do, nor even the fine one Marilla could do. Anne had been putting it up herself, and in addition to it always dislodging in her face, maybe it did make her look like she was trying to be someone else.

Anne took out her hairpins. It all fell to her shoulders, and even as strands fell into her face, she didn't shutter. It only made her recall with warmth, the way Gilbert touched her cheek.

"What do you really want?" Josie sat on a chaise under the window, legs and arms crossed.

"As if you don't know, I wanted to see if you were alright." Anne put her things on a table and approached but didn't dare sit. "Why were you crying?"

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't concern you, Anne." Josie's scowl didn't budge.

"Please tell me, Josie. I swear I'll listen, I swear I'll never tell another soul." Anne begged. "I promise the burden of it all will weigh less if you spill your heart's contents like inky blackness across a white blank page…"

"Oh, why do you always talk like that?" Josie crumbled. Her shoulders fell and her face went into her hands. Anne was there, hand on her back, but Josie lifted dry-eyed. "It's…Billy."

"Billy…" Anne nodded. She didn't have to know what else, that was enough. Billy was always someone Anne detested, and though she knew he and Josie were courting, Anne couldn't help but think Josie deserved better. "Did he hurt you?"

Anne could picture his harsh words or otherwise. She'd been called something by him more times than she could remember, and though she hoped he knew better than to do the same to his girl, she wouldn't put that past him.

"He…" Josie began to sob, tears falling. "He wanted to –I told him no, but he won't listen! And my parents and his, and he said he—"

Anne was desperate to make sense of Josie's ramblings, but she could not. As Josie sobbed harder, Anne touched her shoulder. "Josie, I'm sorry, but what do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean!?" Josie glared tearful daggers at her and Anne pulled her hand back, eyes wide. "Billy told me that if I don't do what he wants, he'll tell everyone we did anyways! My life will be over, and my entire family will hate me!"

"That's awful!" Anne hated that she seemed to understand. It all clicked without the word needing to be said. Anne felt a nauseous pull in her stomach. The flitting feeling of a strange man's hands on her belly. Anne forced it away. "He can't make you do something you don't want to do! That's the whole point! Remember what Ms. Stacy said about consent?"

"He has leverage, Anne!" Josie sighed. "He's going to tell everyone we did anyways, unless I actually…"

Anne stood up and took a folded handkerchief embroidered with Josie's initials from the vanity and handed it to her. Josie pressed her face to it and breathed shakily.

"You can't let him threaten you. That's not what a real man does. You have to tell someone. Tell your mother—"

"I can't!" Josie scrubbed her eyes. "She wouldn't understand. She seems to think I should just accept Billy however he is. She and my father want Billy and me married so they can have a stake in the Andrew's business. That's all they care about."

"She cares about you, doesn't she?" Anne asked, appalled. Josie just shrugged. "You don't need Billy, Josie. At Queens, you can work towards any vocation you please, and if you find someone else—"

"My parents keep saying that they don't even know if I should take the exams!" Josie stood up and threw the balled handkerchief onto the dresser. "I should be a wife over a student."

"One can be a wife without forgoing all of their lives' aspirations! And college is more important! That's why Diana is—" Anne clamped a hand to her mouth as Josie looked over. "I wasn't supposed to say anything."

"Diana Barry is going to take exams? What about finishing school? She's always going on about Paris."

"She wants to keep her options open. And so should you." Anne sat down on the chaise and Josie slowly joined her. "Billy doesn't sound like a very good partner. A good man is loving and kind, and would only ever put his hand on you to perhaps fix your hair or—"

Josie gave Anne a strange look and Anne snapped her mouth closed, feeling her face warm up. Anne then shook her head to clear the image and stood up again.

"What I mean is, you deserve someone who treats you right. If you broke things off with Billy, you'd have my support, and the other girls', even if not your parents."

"But what if he tells everyone something happened that didn't to try and get me back?"

"The only thing that matters is the truth."

"How do you know all these things?" Josie sighed and Anne thought she saw a slight smile tug at her lips. "I don't imagine you've had much experience with being treated with respect before."

"It's true I wasn't loved before, but now that I am, I know I was always worthy of it. Everyone should be." Anne hesitated for a moment. "Josie, if you ever saw such a thing as true romance in a man's eyes as I have, you'd wonder why you ever gave Billy a second glance."

Josie actually laughed, head tipping back, and Anne couldn't help but do the same. Her heart's contents were now dotting her side of the white blank page, just as Josie's were. It seemed to be fully known as Josie stood up.

"Come on," She pulled the chair out from under the door and placed it in front of the vanity. "Sit. I'm going to show you how to set your hair in curls."

"Actually," Anne gave it some thought before sitting down. "I think I should just go back to braids. I'm starting to really miss them."

"You know," Josie started, and Anne found she did not flinch when the brush touched her head. She braided Anne's hair before tying the braids together with the same ribbon that had been holding her up do. "Now that I'm looking closer, in the right light, your hair really does look like fire."

Anne arrived late to Gilbert's that evening, but with a lighter heart. She found herself watching his face for signs of disappointment that she was back to her old braids, but he only smiled and sat up when he saw her.

The very sight of it made her hear leap and she couldn't help but smile back as she carried her books in, dropped them in the chair, and took her place at the foot of the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

It was now officially time to buckle for exams as the end of the year approached. Anne read over her review books every second she could. At breakfast and in bed. She and Gilbert quizzed each other and Anne saved all of her papers to pass in secret to Diana.

"And these are math." Anne handed Diana a paper folder filled with work. They were still both in church clothes, having strayed from the after-service brunch and teas in order to talk exams in secret. Everyone other academic group contained other students, and Anne knew Diana didn't want it to get back to her family that she was taking exams.

"Thanks, Anne." Diana put the folder in her bag, casting looks back towards the adults as she did so.

"Anne, Diana!" Ruby and Tillie ran over, with Jane following behind more sullen. Anne quickly stood up straight and saw Diana close her bag tight.

"Um, we don't really want anything to eat." Diana said. The other girls sat down as if they hadn't heard.

"Did you hear?" Ruby grinned. "Tell them!"

"Josie broke it off with Billy!" Tillie said. "Can you believe it."

"Good." Anne couldn't help but say. "He didn't deserve her."

"That's my brother you're talking about!" Jane snapped. "Besides, she didn't end it. He left her. That's what he told me anyways…"

"Why would he do that?" Tillie asked. "I thought he liked her."

"Because," Jane's face reddened and she turned away. "I can't say."

Oh no, Anne thought. Billy must have already told Jane some lie in order to save face. Anne couldn't let them go on believing that. Not now. Not when she and Josie were friends again. Mrs. Pye had even nodded approvingly at Anne's braids during service.

"He's lying." Anne snapped.

"How would you know, Anne?" Jane rolled her eyes. "Besides, Josie is a bit ill-bred…"

"That's not a very nice thing to say." Ruby whispered.

"Yeah, and Billy isn't some prize, after all." Tillie rolled her eyes. "He's your brother, so you should know what a troll he is."

"Remember when he destroyed our clubhouse?" Diana asked. "I'm not surprised Josie realized she wanted nothing to do with him."

"But they—" Jane's face was red again. "He told me they—"

"And you believe him?" Anne stared at Jane. Jane looked around the group to see they were all looking at her disapprovingly.

"Hi."

Anne looked around, all eyes going not to Josie standing at the edge of the circle in the grass. She seemed to have just broken away from tea with her mother.

"Hi." Anne smiled.

"Hello." Diana said.

"Can I…sit with you girls?" She asked, uncertainly.

"Of course." Anne made room.

Josie sat down beside Anne, flashing her a grateful smile. The other girls seemed tense for a moment before Tillie and Ruby broke the silence.

"There are much nicer boys around than Billy, Josie." Tillie assured her, just as Ruby spoke.

"Was your mother terribly upset!?"

Josie looked between them for a moment, and Anne felt as if her heart was pounding in sync with Josie's own anguish.

"My mother will get over it. No one can force you to do something you don't want to do." She glanced at Anne from the corner of her eye again. "And maybe I don't want a boy right now. Maybe I'll find one in college."

"Speaking of boys…" Tillie grinned at Ruby. "Tell them! Tell them!"

"Tell us what?" Diana asked excitedly.

"Moody kissed me! He kissed me yesterday, and asked to go steady." Ruby squealed.

"Wow." Anne breathed, relieved the subject was changed.

Ruby squealed about Moody for a while, Anne fading in and out of listening to the conversation. She kept looking at Josie, happy for her and glad to see her own relief on her face.

"It's love, it really is!" Ruby sighed. "Sometimes you just know. You just feel it, right Anne?"

Anne looked up to see all the girls looking at her. Her face reddened slightly as she looked between them.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You and Gilbert." Ruby said.

"She doesn't have to talk about that if she doesn't want to." Josie said.

"Right." Diana nodded. "They're just friends. Aren't you?"

Anne was grateful they both stuck up for her, but she couldn't help but realize they both had different stories. Diana didn't think anything was going on because Anne told her there wasn't. But Josie was trying to protect Anne's secret, because she knew Anne felt something more.

But they were both wrong, because Anne still didn't know how Gilbert felt.

And she didn't think she would.

"It's…nothing." Anne forced herself to admit. Her eyes dropped to the grass and she sighed. "I've just been helping him while he's hurt, that's all. The doctor is coming to check on him this week, and his stitches are going to be removed soon and he'll be fine."

"Oh." Ruby shrugged. "Well, alright. If you say so."

The chatter went back to the usual gossip but Anne could not bring herself to smile and laugh with the others. Diana silently put her hand over Anne's.

"Everything will go back to how it was before." Anne reminded herself for the hundredth time that day. With Gilbert being seen by the doctor, and Anne's chores having once again piled up, she had no shortage of things to keep her busy, yet her mind wandered.

"Is that so bad? Really?" She asked herself as she baled hay in the barn loft. "So, he doesn't love me. We're still great friends. I just won't ever get to… hold his hand anymore…"

Jerry called out to let her know she was flinging hay all over him. Anne thrust the pitchfork into his arms and left the barn. In the chicken coop she barely kept track when collecting eggs.

"School is practically over, and so we won't need to study… but we can do other things together. Or did he only play cards with me because he was bedridden?" She put the eggs in the feed spot and dropped the basket into the bag of ground corn. It took her several moment to realize her mistake.

"If you're supposed to just know it's love, when why don't I?" She asked, putting the forks in the glasses on the table, the plates upside down. "I feel so strongly, but love? If I'm not certain, does that mean it's not?"

Anne debated in her head over dinner, grumbling to herself as she cut her meat. They were on a desert of pears, when Anne looked up at Matthew and Marilla.

"When literature speaks of love's keen sting, do they really mean to say it always hurts? Love, I mean?" She asked.

"Oh Anne, I shouldn't think it is meant to hurt always." Marilla took her plate. "But neither Matthew nor I would know for certain, would we?"

"True. You've both only ever had the tragical sort of romances."

"Do you want to tell us what this is about?" Marilla asked.

Anne's face went red as she looked up from her food. Marilla was looking at her with an expression Anne couldn't quite read. She looked to Matthew, who was extremely engrossed with his pears.

"Nope." Anne hurried to finish her food before running upstairs to her room.

It was fully dark as Anne contemplated once more. She scrubbed her face at her wash stand, water trickling down her arms to dampen the sleeves of her nightgown.

"Maybe I don't love him." She crawled under the covers and blinked her eyes sleepily. She rolled to her side so that she could watch the tiny flame flicker in her lamp. "Maybe I just greatly admire his mind…and his spirit." She yawned. "And his chin…"

She found herself drifting in and out of falling asleep, her mind still whirring. The flickering flame matching the one in her heart.

So she and Gilbert would remain good friends, that was fine. She would never reach for his hand again, but that was because he was no longer in pain. He didn't need her touch.

She thought of the times he'd fall asleep in her presence. How she'd just continue on with her work, half watching him sleep and half hoping he'd wake up again before she had to leave.

Thinking of it now, she'd had countless chances to reach out and touch his face, touch his hair the way he'd done to her. She didn't realize until this moment how she longed to feel those curls, and now she never would.

The keen sting faded to an ache, the feeling of pressing onto a bruise that was thought to have already healed. This was not the sharp pain of an arrow, but the dull ache of a break.

When she replayed again, the way she brushed her hair out of her face, she found herself bolting upright in bed. She gasped, realizing she could not live her life knowing he'd never touch her again—not if she were just assuming so without asking.

She thought once she could never go back to just being friends, and she knew she meant she could, but only if she knew she'd do whatever it took to make him happy.

"I…love him!" She gasped. "I'm in love with him!"

Scrambling to untangle herself from her blankets, Anne got out of bed and grabbed for clothes off the floor. She could only assumed it was warm outside, but she still yanked stockings up her legs, hopping on one foot to stay balanced before switching to the next.

She pulled a button-up sweater over each arm in turn as she stepped into her boots. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway before going back to grab her hat. She pulled the pin out and looked down at it.

"If he doesn't feel the same, then I must give this back. Oh, but if he's just as confused, I'll show it to him. He has to know he wouldn't give this to me if it didn't mean something!"

Anne stopped on the stairs as she realized the fireplace was still lit. She peered around to see Matthew sitting in his chair smoking a pipe. It must not have been as late as she thought.

"Anne?" Matthew looked up as she attempted to cross unnoticed.

"I love Gilbert Blythe." Anne whispred, approaching Matthew. "I have to go tell him now. Right now."

"Right. Um." Matthew pulled his pipe from his mouth and glanced away nervously. "It can't wait?"

"Not another moment." Anne shook her head. "My heart aches, and I simply cannot live without knowing if he feels the same. Please, don't breathe a word to Marilla. I'll be back before she knows I'm out. Please, Matthew."

Anne waited, wondering what all was going through his head. She knew she had a slight way of winding Matthew around her finger, but it was never a power she'd used unless the reason was just and good. She prayed it would work again this time.

"Right." Matthew whispers, reaching for his matches on the table. "Be quiet and be careful. And be quick."

"Of course." Anne wrapped her arms around Matthew's shoulder and kissed his face before starting towards the door. She pulled the hanging lantern from the porch and started down the road.

Her hair, half-braided and half falling loose blew around her shoulders in the summer wind. Her nightgown did too, exposing her legs and making her glad she grabbed stockings.

In the windows of farmhouses she passed, Anne thought she saw the occasional flicker of light. At one house, she even saw a man silhouetted in the distance, crossing from the house to a shed.

"He has to be awake." Anne told herself. "Nobody wants to be woken up…unless it's someone coming to say they love them. That's acceptable, isn't it?"

Anne looked up at the sky, stars obscured partway by streaks of cloud, before looking forward into the woods. Princess Cordelia's spirit filled her, Katie's steps falling alongside her own, as Anne crossed into the forest at night.

"I love you," Anne whispered to herself, rehearsing. She held the lantern out towards the ground so that she could step over roots and rocks. "If you do not feel the same, I understand. I just thought I'd say so… and I know you had a crush on me before, so it is very unkind of you to not have one anymore."

Anne was almost driving herself to madness, to wanting to laugh with every scenario that could happen. Every possibility.

"Gilbert, I—" Anne screamed, freezing in her tracks as the silhouette of someone stepped into her lamp-light.

Her heart had nearly pulled from her chest, but she took in their size, their scowl in the orange light, and she knew this was not a stranger. This was Billy Andrews, smelling strongly of moonshine.

"Well, well, well, look who stepped into my huntin' grounds." Billy grinned at Anne, something that made her stomach turn. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

Anne couldn't find her voice. She had a hundred reasons not to like him, but this past week, knowing what she did about him, only succeeded in making her hate him. She looked past him, at ahead in the path where she needed to go, but only felt her heart drop again when she saw the strap of a rifle around his shoulder.

"Been out looking for foxes." Billy said, noticing her eyeing the gun. "Have you seen any?"

"…I…um…" Anne stepped back, her boots crunching over leaves.

"Seen any!?" He barked again, pulling his gun around.

"N-No." Anne shook her head.

"Damn shame. You were always good at finding them." Billy fumbled to ready the rifle and pointed it up towards the sky. Anne flinched, squeezing her eyes shut, but there was no shot fired. Just the soft click of empty chambers, overlaid with Billy imitating the firearm.

"I…I should get going." Anne said mostly to herself. She found her distrust of him wasn't as paralyzing now that she knew his gun was empty. She stepped around him widely and started down the road again.

"Hey, I wasn't done talking to you!" Billy yelled after her. Anne heard only two long steps before he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to me, Anne. I wanna ask you something."

Anne was there, in the woods, but she was also there. The stranger was too close, too close. He wouldn't let her go, and she could taste only wool. Anne forced her mind back to the present.

"I'm busy." Anne managed to say, but Billy turned her around with the heavy hand on her shoulder. She felt her grip slacken around the lantern's handle.

"I wanna ask you about Josie." Billy's face was close, the smell of moonshine heavy on him now. "You know she doesn't wanna marry me anymore. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"M-Maybe she just doesn't like you." Anne forced words out, tried to force her legs to move but they wouldn't.

"Bullshit. I think it's you that doesn't like me. You just had to talk to her, didn't you?" He took his hand off her shoulder before wrapping it hard around her wrist. "Didn't you!?"

The lantern slipped from Anne's hand. Billy grabbed it in his other hand, the reach forward causing his gun to swing on his shoulder. The metal barrel stuck Anne's leg and she gasped as Billy threw her lantern off to the side. The small bit of light between them vanished and the sound of shattering glass pierced the air.

The flames reared up in the splash of oil, but died as Billy tread over them, the glass crunching into bits under his boots.

"Just like moonshine bottles."

Anne could hear the sneer in his voice, though she couldn't see his hand. His hand still wrapped around her arm and her heart pounded. She remembered the stranger. His firm grip and moth-eaten smell.

"Why'd you have to say a damn thing to her? Why do you always have to ruin everything?" Billy barked in her face, flecks of saliva landing on her skin. Anne began to cry softly.

"Leave me alone, Billy. Let me go, please." She whispered.

"I'll let you go after we talk." He said, pulling her closer. "You know what I think your problem is? Why you had to say all that shit to Josie? You're jealous."

Anne kept trying to twist her arm out of his grip, but he was too strong. She winced and cried out softly as he squeezed harder.

"You were just eaten up when I wasn't in school anymore. When I wasn't there to pay attention to you." Billy came closer. Anne could feel the gun against her leg again. "You were jealous Josie spent all her time with me. Because you want me."

Anne trembled where she stood, eyes wide and flooding with tears. If Billy could see that through the darkness, he didn't show he felt sorry.

"That's why you're running around like this, right?" Billy's other hand reached up to push Anne's sweater off her shoulder, exposing her gown. "Were you looking for me?"

Anne wanted to scream. This was happening again. Why…and now, this was someone she knew. She'd have to see his face forever in Avonlea. At the store and in church. She could just picture that same awful smirk he always flashed from across the aisle in school after saying something awful.

Billy pulled on Anne's arm, half pushing her down and half stumbling himself. Anne fell down onto the ground. She felt her stockings tear at one knee as she tried to crawl away.

She screamed as her hand slid over gritty shards of glass in the road. Billy climbed on top of her, forcing her onto her back. Though he seemed to sway in his drunkenness, Anne knew he was still much stronger than she was.

He wanted to do this, and he could. Anne could only sob as she seemed to see flashes of a strange face and a familiar one looming above her.

"I wanna teach you a lesson. I'm so sick of you." Billy whispered. "Don't scream."

Anne could feel the scrape of a knife that wasn't there. The choking gag of a cloth long gone. It kept her from making a sound. She could only breath heavier, turning her face to the side as hands fumbled on the hem of her gown.

This was going to happen here, Anne realized. She was too stupid to learn to stay inside. It was never a streak of awful luck, but fate that the woods she once loved so dearly held her death time and time again, and this time it all made sure it was too dark for anyone to need to venture out.

The woods she loved. It'd really once been her haven. The image of the stranger, the feeling of Billy's breath on her neck faded only for a second as Anne thought of her clubhouse. Of riding these woods with Matthew, seeing them for the first time.

To hate this place again after just having gotten brave enough to venture in— to hate herself again after just finding love—Anne wouldn't do it.

Anne felt her hand bleeding as she felt wildly for glass. She felt it slice her fingers, but nothing she could grab onto it. She needed something. There was a hand trying to move under her clothes. She needed something sharp.

Billy touched Anne's skin just as her bleeding hand reached into her sweater pocket and curled around the hatpin. Anne pulled it out just as Billy leaned up.

His scream pierced the night air as Anne plunged it into his chest. Anne pulled it back out and stabbed him again, and again in the arm as he raised them up in defense.

Anne wrenched it back out as Billy scrambled back. Anne crawled away and stood. Billy screamed and backed into a patch of filtered moonlight. Anne gasped, horrified at what she'd done as she saw the blood, but the look of hate he flashed her hardened her own heart.

"You're fucking crazy!" Billy gasped, hands pressing to his wounds.

"That's right, I am!" Anne screamed at the top of her lungs. "So don't you dare touch me!"

Anne reared back with the pin still in her hand. Blood from both of them dripped down her arm and down the sharp end. Billy stepped back.

Anne gasped as Billy tripped back over his rifle on the ground. As soon as he was no longer standing, Anne turned on her heel and ran.

She ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding and lungs screaming. She didn't know which way she'd taken off until she saw the bend of the road up ahead.

Suddenly, the air cracked with the shot of a gun towards the sky deep in the woods behind her. Whether Billy had just remembered bullets in his pocket, or his earlier blank shot had been a fluke, Anne wasn't sure. The sound broke the quiet world and Anne sobbed as she crossed into the fields.

The gunfire must have alerted them. Either that, or it was the sound of her screaming. Anne didn't stop running until she fell into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Anne her head to press her face into his chest, breathing in Gilbert's scent, before the shock of it all knocked her out.

Someone was touching Anne's face. Anne wanted to flinch away from it, but after a moment, she realized the touch was gentle and not scary.

She faded out, and in. Feeling the gentle touch of a hand on her face, and once even on her shoulder as a blanket was pulled over her.

Her dreams were again, filled with running and the firing of a gun in her ears. When Anne stirred again, this time she forced herself to stay awake.

Anne forced open her eyes. She was laying somewhere, a fireplace glowing with low embers nearby. She looked around, taking in the furniture from this new angle.

Anne was laying on a small cot in Gilbert's den. He had covered her with a quilt. She shifted her legs under the covers, feeling that she was still wearing her stockings.

She gasped in pain when attempting to lean up on one hand. She pulled her hand out from under the blanket. Her entire right hand was wrapped tight in a bandage. Anne traced over her covered palm with her other hand and winced.

Turning her head to the side, she saw her sweater folded on a chair with her boots underneath. The warmth from the low fire was so relaxing that Anne had to remind herself to stay awake.

She opened her eyes again as someone came in and went right for the fireplace without looking over at her. He placed a kettle down on the hearth and prodded the flames with a metal poker so they grew higher. He then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"You're up." He turned to her, smiling in a mix of relief and surprise.

"You're up!" Anne sat bolt upright, ignoring various pains in her body. "Gilbert, you're up and walking."

"Yeah, um," Gilbert's eyes dropped sheepishly. His face seemed to grow redder in the firelight before he stood up. He reached down and pulled his shirt up by one of the untucked tails. "Out this morning. Dr. Ward let me do it myself with his supervision."

A scar ran along the line of the bottom of his ribcage. Anne had built his wound up in her mind as some awful thing, so her initial reaction was a gasp, hand over her mouth. But the shock quickly faded when she realized it wasn't really as scary as she imagined.

"Yeah, well." Gilbert chuckled and dropped his shirt back down.

"No, it –it doesn't look bad, really." Anne assured him.

Gilbert didn't seem bothered either way. His brows knitted together with worry, gaze now focusing on Anne's bandaged hand over the covers. He approached and Anne instinctively shifted so that he could sit on the edge.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, gently taking her hand in his.

"Yes." She admitted.

"Anne, what hap—?"

"There was glass." Anne turned away, unable to look at him now. "And I fell."

"There was a gunshot." Gilbert was firm. "We thought there might have been –Bash went out looking for him—"

"It was just Billy!" Anne gasped. "Being stupid, like always. He said he'd been hunting."

"He chased you. You were hurt."

"I _fell._" She pulled her hand back. "I told you, there was glass."

"Anne—"

Anne laid back down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders before rolling onto her side, her back to him. Gilbert didn't move. A constant rock as fear and rage pulsed through her with every beat of her heart.

"I really thought I was finally alright." Anne whispered. "I was alright to go into the woods without being scared, but now…I'm ruined again."

"You're not, Anne. You never were. There's nothing wrong with how you feel, being afraid—"

"All the time?" She snapped. "Even when nothing bad is happening? It's like I'm still there."

"That's normal. That happens to a lot of people after they've been through something like that. It's your mind's way of making sense of it all, of healing."

"I suppose medical books have told you all of this." Anne whispered.

"Not really." Gilbert sighed, his own voice growing quieter. "Most of it I figured through…experience."

"You?" Anne rolled back over to face him, her eyes falling to the spot on his ribs, picturing the scar that was hidden. "Gilbert… I didn't know."

"Mostly, I worried for you." Gilbert said, placing his hand over his shirt, covering the scar as if telling her to keep it from her mind. "You. I kept seeing that man hurting you."

The hardness in her heart seemed to melt away like a snowflake falling onto the hearth. She looked back up at him, the firelight casting gold across his serious expression. The same one he always wore when they studied.

"It does get better, you're right." She realized, smiling despite the ache. "After I left the asylum, I would get those same rushes of fear a-and memories. I used to think it was just from having been there for so long, and then when they began to fade, I thought I was just forgetting. But you don't ever really forget. You just learn to live with it until it fades."

Anne pulled her knees up to her chest and reached for his hand with her good one. She needed to feel his skin, to watch his face in the firelight. It reminded her again what she knew she felt.

"I lost the pin." Anne realized, squeezing his hand a tad. "I stabbed Billy with it to get him off of me, and I must have dropped it when I ran away."

"Hey, it's okay." He assured her. He pulled his hand from hers and reached to touch her face as the tears rolled down. "There's no way he's going to get away with what he did if you left him like that."

Anne felt her heart pounding. The warmth of his touch calmed her into willing herself not to shed anymore tears. She was too strong for that.

"But I dropped it, and it was really important." She said. "I was bringing it back to you because—"

The sound of someone coming in the front door was as if they were being deliberately quiet, but it still seemed loud in the quiet house.

"It's just Bash. I should tell him you're alright." Gilbert went to stand, but Anne stopped him, quickly wrapping an arm around his.

"Please don't tell him what happened!" Anne begged. She knew he had already implied too much, given too much away. But she could trust Gilbert. It wasn't as if she couldn't trust Bash, but it was just different. "Not about Billy."

"I won't." He assured her, covering her hand with his own before standing and going to meet Sebastian.

Anne could hear Gilbert and Sebastian talking, the low deep tones of their voices through the wall, but conversation otherwise indistinct. Anne strained to hear them for a moment before giving up and laying back down. After a few minutes, Anne heard the front door open and close and Gilbert come back into the room.

"Where's Bash going?" Anne asked, sitting back up again.

"To go let Matthew and Marilla know you're okay." Gilbert looked at the chair across the room before choosing to sit back on the cot, making Anne smile.

"Oh, right. Matthew must be wondering where I am. I told him I wouldn't be long." She could just picture him having stayed up waiting for her. Anne looked towards a window, but the curtains were drawn.

As if reading her mind, Gilbert crossed to the window and opened the drapes. Starlight danced onto the windowsill and Anne smiled at the overly green expanse of trees in the distance.

"I, uh, told Bash to tell Matthew that you're staying overnight. I just figured you didn't want to drive back now."

"No, I don't." Anne turned her gaze from the window, away from the woods. "Thank you."

"You can have the master bedroom upstairs if you want. I just set you up in here because I couldn't carry you upstairs."

"You carried me in here?" Anne asked in surprise.

"Yes." He sat back down beside her. "Well, Bash helped, but then I dressed your wound."

Anne looked once more at her bandaged hand. Though her fingers were exposed, the tightness of the bandage made it difficult to move them. Still, she smiled gratefully.

She remembered now, the feeling in her sleep of someone touching her face. Had that just been him cleaning blood from her face or something more? Anne subconsciously reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. When she glanced back at him, he was watching her intently.

The muffled sound of Delphine crying from upstairs broke their silence. Anne could have sworn she'd seen the blossoming romance in his eyes once more, but then he turned away.

"I should— she probably just woke up and realized Bash wasn't around." Gilbert stood up. "It's nice to care for her again, though. I wonder if she missed me."

"I'm sure she did." Anne smiled.

As Gilbert went upstairs to check on Delphine, Anne found herself both happy and saddened. He was up and walking as if he'd never been hurt at all, just like she prayed. But now she recalled that she knew everything would go back to the way it was. He wasn't very good at cooking, but he could do it for himself now.

As Anne watched the stars outside the window, she heard Delphine's crying stop from upstairs. Gilbert came back downstairs and held something out to her.

"I just remembered that you must have left this last time you were here." He said. Anne turned to see he was holding one of her lace ribbons.

"Oh. Thanks." She hadn't realized it was gone, but she was sure she would have in time. Still, it only reminded her of what she wanted to return. What was rightfully his that she lost and why she was bringing it back to begin with.

"Allow me." Gilbert sat back down and reached over.

He pulled both of her braids over her left shoulder. They were messy and loose after their fair share of adventure that day, as well as the sleeping, but Gilbert didn't seem to mind it.

Anne's heart pounded as she watched his face. That blooming romance, combined with the intensity of his gaze was so new. To be in it, to know he was looking at her like that was like magic.

He tied the ribbon around the ends of her braids before gently brushing loose locks behind her ear. It was just too much.

"I was going to give that pin back because there is no way I could keep something so nice. Not when I'm not sure it means what I want it to mean." She forced the words out, forced her eyes off of his face.

"What do you want it to mean?"

"It doesn't really matter." She whispered.

"Yes it does." Gilbert's voice seemed to barely be holding back a tide of emotion. He took her good hand in his, interlacing their fingers. Despite it being familiar, it still caused such a blush on her face. "Anne, what you think, you have to know I'm thinking too, and have been. Have been since the start, really. Since we met."

"No." Anne whispered, shaking her head. She still couldn't look at him. "That can't be true, you aren't even remembering how we met. If you remembered, you wouldn't say that. Don't you remember, I—"

"Hit me across the face with a slate? That's not something you forget." Gilbert said fondly.

"I was always so mean to you in school." She reminded him.

"Competitive." He chuckled. "Perhaps, overly so, but you were the only one who could beat me."

"But –But, I'm me."

Anne had wanted this for longer than she even realized, for more than just this night she had spent rehearsing the words. She had always longed for someone to look at her the way he did, yet something inside of her compelled her to question it.

It was the same thing that used to compel her to snap at him just when they'd been getting along for a stretch a tad too long. She was recalling with clarity now what it was, and her fear only ebbed to awe when he spoke.

"And it's always been you, Anne. Always, from the day whacked me." Gilbert said, his voice just rising over the sound of the crackling fire. "I've been crazy about you."

"Even when I cut off all my hair and I looked like an ugly boy?" Stunned, it was the only thing that she could manage.

"I thought you looked beautiful." He said. "You've always been the most beautiful girl to me."

In a world where someone such as Diana existed, the fact that he was calling her beautiful caused that last bit of apprehension to disappear. That thing, that guarding feeling that told her no one would truly ever look at her in such a way vanished too, and Anne lifted her eyes to look at him.

She felt as if the air was pulled straight from her lungs as all the heat in her body rushed to her face. He was blushing too, deep down to his neck, and the fondness in his eyes was now the deepest romance.

Anne had once sworn off the tradition of waiting around for some prince to approach her with a tap on the shoulder. She told herself if she ever wanted to kiss a boy, she just would. Saying such a thing was much easier than doing the heart-pounding action itself, but Anne never shied from adventure.

She dared put both hands on his face, feeling the warmth raw on one hand, and gentle through the bandages on the other. Their faces were closer as she leaned in. Their breaths mingled as Anne hesitated for only a second, knowing this would change things forever.

Anne felt Gilbert's lips on hers, warm and soft. Her heart pounded in her chest. She felt his hands reach to hold her arms, warmth where her sleeves folded back and exposed her skin. She did not get a chance to wonder if she was doing this right. She could only think that she could not believe she was kissing Gilbert Blythe.

Time seemed to slow and she did not want it to resume, yet all too soon they parted. Anne leaned forward, her forehead resting against his.

"I love you." Anne whispered. "That's what I came here to tell you."

"In the middle of the night?" He chuckled in surprise.

"I was convinced it couldn't wait."

Gilbert laughed. Anne sat, stunned for a moment as he leaned back from her, laughing. How could he laugh at her, she should wonder. Instead, all she could do was realize it'd probably been so long for him since he laughed this hard in pure joy. Longer than just the few weeks he was injured.

So then Anne was laughing too, hands going to her mouth in futile attempts to stifle it, all the while her lips still tingled with lingering sparks.

He kissed her again, his hands on her face now. His thumbs moved across her skin, as if tracing and counting each of her freckles.

The fire flickered and crackled in the background as they exchanged kisses and soft words in its light. Anne kept Gilbert's hands in hers and he seemed content, tracing her fingers with his. It was then that Anne realized what she could now do.

Anne reached up and brushed the hair back from his forehand, running her fingers through his dark curls. To her heart's great happiness, he seemed to lean into the touch.

Later, when the door opened, Anne and Gilbert stilled, her hand slipping from the side of his face. Gilbert pulled back and turned around to watch the door. But they only heard Sebastian go upstairs.

"It's getting late." Gilbert said with reluctance. "We should get to bed."

"I know." Anne stifled a yawn. If Matthew was riding to fetch her in the morning, than she wanted to be up first, her sweater and boots on that he never expected she'd been through anything more than the cut on her hand.

She looked at Gilbert again. The fear she'd felt when being cornered in the woods was never farther than it'd been than in this moment. She knew now she couldn't be left alone. It'd be impossible to fall asleep, no matter how tired she was.

"Wait." Anne reached out and grabbed Gilbert's wrist as he stood. "Don't go. Stay. Please."

He looked at her for a moment, fondness and something else flashing in his eyes. Perhaps he was remembering how she stayed with him the entire time he was hurt, or maybe he didn't really need the convincing at all.

"Alright." He sat back down.

"You know," Anne laid back against the pillows. "We should go to the beach."

"In the middle of the night?"

"No." Anne rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh as he smirked. "Just in general. You and me. When was the last time you walked barefoot on the sand and laughed into the salty wind?"

"I honestly can't say I ever have." He admitted.

"Well, then I'll show you how. You know, Gil, there's more to life than just studying."

"I'm starting to think you're right."

Sebastian put Delphine down in the quilt covered rocking chair on the porch when she began to squirm. Like her father, it seemed she couldn't sit still in the excitement of warm weather.

There were chores to do as the sun was up, but Sebastian figured they could wait. After all, now that Gilbert was on his feet again, he could work, even if he did have to take it a bit easy. Sebastian was just glad that he wouldn't have to go near the bees again.

He looked up at the sound of wheels and saw Matthew coming up the road, pulled by horse. The lack of urgency in fetching Anne was due to Sebastian assuring him that it was only a minor cut. That was at Gilbert's request. What it actually was that had Anne screaming and crying and a gun going off, well, if Anne didn't want to say, that wasn't his business to insist. Matthew got out and Sebastian nodded and approached.

"Got my hand Jerry taking on some of Anne's chores until I get her home." Matthew nodded. "She up?"

"Ah…she wasn't when I got up. But maybe she's up now."

Sebastian had gone to wake Gilbert that morning, just late enough that he'd be both caught up on rest and too late that he couldn't subject Anne to his cooking if he wanted to. But Gilbert's room had been empty. He'd gone to wake Anne next before just deciding to wait on Matthew.

Matthew walked inside with Sebastian taking Delphine and trailing awkwardly. Sebastian stayed in the kitchen for coffee as Mathew went into the den. A second later he came back out, head down.

"Just have Gilbert take her home."

"Will do." Sebastian held back a grin. "Coffee, Matthew?"

"Ah, no. I shouldn't keep Marilla worried." Matthew left fast and Sebastian was slow to finish his coffee before going into the den.

Anne and Gilbert were still asleep just as he'd found them that morning. She wasn't as bad off as Sebastian had first thought, as she was sporting only a bandaged hand that he could see.

She was laying in the cot, her head on Gilbert's chest and her arm across his middle. Gilbert had one arm around her shoulders, the other with his hand resting inches from her own, as if they had fallen asleep holding hands.

Leaving them to rest, Sebastian took Delphine outside again. It wasn't too early for her to learn not to fear where honey comes from.


End file.
